Rosy agoraphobic Fish Flub CVS Vitamin Sale
I couldn’t believe my luck. Following Nazy’s directive, I was at the CVS Pharmacy to pick up vitamins. Amazingly, I arrived in the middle of a vitamin sale.
“Buy one, get one free!” I thought, seeing the $ALE sign. But, alas, there was but a single bottle of the mandated Omega 3-6-9. I realized that I couldn’t go home without getting: “something,” I thought. I grabbed the single bottle and marched to the checkout.
“I want two of these,” I told the clerk. “But there is only one on the shelf.”
“We’re out.”
“You’re not out. I found one bottle. I need one more,” I replied with a simple sentence structure. (“See Jane run,” I thought.)
“You’ll have to ask the manager,” the clerk responded.
“Where is he?”
“She is on break.”
“I’ll wait,”, I retorted confidently. The manager, moving with the grace of a hippopotamus on crutches (and the speed of a slug on super-glue) showed up after a wait that could be measured geologically.
“CVS has a ‘two for one’ sale,” I began.
“No. We have a ‘buy one, get one free’ sale.” the clerk responded.
“She is going to make this difficult,” I thought. “Whatever,” I said (cogently). “However, there is only one bottle of Omega 3 6 9 on the shelf. I need one additional bottle.”
“Why?”
“Because you have a ‘two for...’, eh, because you have a ‘buy one, get one free’, sale.”
“Yes, but we only have one bottle of Omega..”
“My point! Exactly!”
“Why do you care? You won’t have to pay more if you just take one bottle.”
“ “ (I was speechless.)
“It’s the same price for one or two bottles,” the manager continued.
“But if I take only one bottle, I will get half as many vitamins.”
“So?”
“So each vitamin will cost twice as much.”
“How did you figure that out?”
“I used to teach Math.”
“Oh..”
“So, you can charge me half price for this bottle...”
“More Math?”
“... or you can find another bottle. CVS gets more money if you find another bottle.”
A (relatively) short time later (after someone completed draining the nearby Pacific Ocean), the manager returned with a second bottle. Triumphant, I drove home - ready to bask in the glory of accolades washing over my victorious head.
“What took you so long?” Nazy asked.
Stunned by Nazy’s lack of appreciation for my endeavors, I turned to reader feedback. Many wondered what we did with the goldfish that Nazy bought for the Persian haft-seen table? Recall that we put the live fish into a bowl. The fish bowl is part of the haft-seen and the fish are on display for 12 days.As usual, we wondered what to do with the fish after the celebration ended. Nazy vetoed my idea because it culminated in a ceremonial fish-flush. She had a novel plan:
“We can give the fish to Melika and Tom - for their outdoor pond.”
“Didn’t the coyotes eat the Koi from that pond?”
“Yes, but these goldfish are too small to interest coyotes.”
“Right,” I said. “What about crows and raccoons?” I thought.
In the end, I netted the two fish and transported them to the pond. Following protocols learned in 7th grade (when I got my first aquarium), I let the fish float in the pond in order to equalize temperatures. The fish dashed to the bottom as soon as they were released. (Alternatively, agoraphobia could have induced Pisces Panic Syndrome leading to the flight response.)
You’ve probably noticed the photos of roses interspersed in this letter. (Note: the photo to the right is not a rose.) The park in front of the Santa Barbara Mission includes a rose garden. Nazy and I enjoy the garden during our evening walk. Nazy’s butterfly paintings may eventually give way to a flower series. (Or perhaps a bird series.)
In last week’s letter, I alluded to a consulting gig in Geneva. At the end of this week, I will fly to Geneva to begin work. Some readers questioned my sanity while others queried my linguistic expertise.
“Are you crazy? What do you know about French?” (Some did questioned both.)
I reminded Nazy (the ‘both’ questioner) that..
“Remember our time in Canada, a bilingual French/English country? I did fine.”
“We lived in British Columbia, Dan.”
“But Canada is bilingual.”
“You’re right Dan. Vancouver was bilingual: Chinese and English. There was no French sign, no French accent, no..”
“... matter, Nazy. No one expects an American to speak a foreign language. It’s part of our charm. I’ll ooze charm..”
“You’re oozing for sure. But it’s not charm Dan.”
And finally, a word from my sister Marjorie about “Do you know that your fancy-dancy address labels don’t have a zip code?. Did you do that on purpose?”
Answer: The ‘ugly labels’ that I chose had a zip code. The ‘nice labels’ that Nazy selected are sans-zip. Executive addition: Nazy demands that I include the following sentence: “Nazy selected the ‘nice labels’ and Dan provided the address information to the printer.”
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