I once thought the fall of western civilization began the day I was first forced to pump my own gas. I was wrong. The decline of western civilization is directly attributable to American businesses; those purveyors of coupons.
Random House Unabridged Dictionary defines the word “coupon” as “a portion of a certificate, ticket, label, advertisement, or the like, set off from the main body by dotted lines to emphasize its separability, entitling the holder to something, as a gift or discount.” Like the Sirens of Greek mythology ensnared unsuspecting sailors, so am I ensnared by those insidious dotted lines.
Sunday morning at my house is punctuated by the sound of paper being cut with a sharp-edged instrument accompanied by distinctive audible disturbances from the wielder of the scissors; namely, me. Discovering that cutting out coupons is so enjoyable, I bought a special coupon-cutting tool guaranteed to save time in cutting coupons. That means more time to search for coupons; coupons from newspapers, coupons from magazines; coupons online, coupon-swaps, coupon clubs.
I have coupons in specially-labeled, accordion-style coupon holders. There are coupons on my refrigerator door. Coupons spill out of kitchen drawers. Coupons are stuffed into the back of my wallet. Coupons litter the floor of my car. Coupons are stuck to the bottom of my shoe, like forgotten toilet paper. Coupons, like tribbles, multiply and occupy every available space in my life.
It’s time to go to the grocery store now. I’m running out of time. There are coupons with expiration dates looming. Must buy unneeded stuff at a discount. It’s the American way.