Death of a Coupon Clipper (4 page)

BOOK: Death of a Coupon Clipper
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Chapter 6
The following day after Randy dropped her off at the office on his way to the bar
to do inventory, Hayley shed her winter jacket and scarf and booted up her computer.
She googled extreme-couponing game shows and was quickly routed to the Small Town
Life Network’s website, where they were trumpeting a new season of episodes for their
hit signature show,
Wild and Crazy Couponing,
one of which would be shot at the Shop ’n Save in Bar Harbor, Maine. Hayley clicked
on the application page and began typing all her vital statistics, including name,
address, phone number, and e-mail. There was also a section in which she needed to
describe briefly why she loved couponing and why she was applying to compete on the
show. Hayley didn’t want to play on their sympathy in order to get selected. So, instead,
she began talking about how as a single mother it was her duty to cut corners and
find cost savings whenever possible.
Boring!
Hayley then remembered her mother talking about an old game show called
Queen for a Day
that Sheila had watched when she was a little girl in the 1950s. On this show women
trotted out sob stories about how hard and sad their lives were. At the end of the
program, the woman with the most pathetic life was crowned “Queen for a Day” and was
handed prizes. Hayley deleted what she had written and started over. This time she
detailed her collapsed roof, broken furnace, totaled car, and insurance woes. She
didn’t hold back. If she did her job right, the producers would actually hear her
voice cracking with emotion and the sniffling nose of this desperate housewife as
they read her essay. It was a calculated move, but it was worth the risk.
When she finished, she proofread the application for typos and hit the send button.
She had no idea how many locals would be applying, and the deadline was today, as
the show was scheduled to tape in less than two weeks.
She then read her work e-mails, which had piled up overnight. One was from Gretchen
at the insurance company. Sure enough, Gretchen had spoken to her bosses and they
were unwilling to help Hayley out. She was still on the hook for the cost to repair
her car.
The front door of the office blew open and Sal and Bruce barreled inside, both bundled
up, their noses a Rudolph red. Sal shed his army green parka and black stocking cap,
hung them on a coatrack, and charged over to the coffeepot, which was percolating
in the corner.
Bruce took his time taking off his coat, winking at Hayley, and presenting her with
a paper bag.
“What’s this?” Hayley asked.
“Blueberry muffin from the Morning Glory Bakery,” Bruce said proudly.
“I’m speechless,” Hayley said, her mouth open.
“I felt bad about the other day, so I thought I’d make it up to you by stopping by
there on my way to work this morning.”
Hayley opened the bag. “Bruce, I think this is the first nice thing you’ve ever done
for me.”
“I like to surprise you,” Bruce said smugly.
She peeked inside.
“Um, Bruce, there’s nothing but crumbs, an empty wrapper, and a wad of napkins in
here.”
Bruce snatched the bag from her. “What?”
He looked inside the bag. “I thought it felt light. Sal! Did you eat the muffin I
bought for Hayley?”
“Yes, I did, while you were filling up your gas tank at the Big Apple. I was starving.
My wife’s still out of town and nobody’s at home to cook me breakfast.”
Bruce had been picking up Sal every morning as a favor. Sal’s wife usually dropped
him off at the office because Sal refused to operate heavy machinery before he had
his morning coffee.
“So, when were you going to tell me?” Bruce barked.
“I didn’t have to. Hayley already did,” Sal said, pouring cream into his paper cup
of coffee.
“I can’t believe you!” Bruce said.
“You got a problem? Fire me. Oh, wait. That’s right. I’m the boss. I’m the one who
can fire you. Not the other way around.”
Bruce decided to drop the matter out of self-preservation.
“While we’re on the topic of you being the boss . . . ,” Hayley said, treading gently.
“No raise, Hayley,” Sal said, taking a sip of his coffee and then sputtering as it
burned his tongue. “Damn it!”
“For your information, Sal Moretti, I was
not
going to ask you for a raise,” Hayley said sharply, folding her arms and shooting
him her best look of annoyance.
“Well, color me surprised,” Sal said. “What is it, then?”
“I was going to ask for an advance on my salary,” Hayley said, her voice volume dropping
to a tiny whisper.
“An advance? How much of an advance?” Sal said, blowing on his coffee to cool it down.
“I was thinking . . . Oh, I don’t know. . . .”
“Ballpark,” Sal said suspiciously.
“Five months or so,” Hayley said, not making eye contact.
“Five months! That’s something like ten thousand dollars.”
“Yeah, that’s about right. It would be a huge help,” Hayley said. The sinking feeling
in her gut was telling her exactly where this conversation was going.
“You’re kidding, right? This has got to be some kind of joke.”
“You’re right, Sal. I’m joking. Just lightening the mood around here,” Hayley said,
forcing a smile and returning her attention to her computer.
“Good. Because for a second there, I thought you were serious. Imagine. Me having
that kind of money to throw around. If I did, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be lying on
a beach in the Bahamas drinking mai tais and laughing at all you poor saps braving
this godforsaken Maine winter!”
Sal tried sipping his coffee again. Still too hot. It burned his tongue. Again. “Damn
it!” Sal set the white paper cup down and stormed into the back bull pen toward his
office.
Hayley could tell Sal knew she wasn’t joking. He was just saving her the humiliation
of having to say no to her.
Bruce hung back and waited for Sal to shut his office door before turning back to
Hayley.
“I don’t have ten grand in my account, Hayley, but I can probably float you half.
And I’ll give you a break on the interest. Say five percent?”
If it were anybody but Bruce Linney, Hayley would have considered it. But borrowing
money from Bruce would inevitably come with strings attached. And she had no desire
to find out what those strings might be.
Hayley shook her head and smiled. “No, Bruce, I don’t think so. But thanks anyway.”
“Well, I’m here if you change your mind,” Bruce said, shrugging, before walking back
to his own office.
She was tempted.
No. There had to be another way.
Wild and Crazy Couponing.
It was a long shot.
But right now, it was her
only
shot.
Hayley was determined to put the financial stress out of her mind and focus on her
next column. But that was going to be next to impossible now that she had decided
to do a series of columns featuring a variety of ways to prepare tasty meals on a
budget. Every recipe would be a constant reminder that her future was about to be
filled with a lot of Hamburger Helper.
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
Well, after the last couple of days I’ve had this week, the only words I keep hearing
rolling around in my head are “I need a do-over!”
What a long week it’s been! All of this snow we’ve been getting has me questioning
why I chose to live in this town year-round! Oh, wait a minute, I didn’t! I was born
here, so I guess I can just blame my mother!
Although I do admit I love the spring, summer, and fall in our quaint little town
of Bar Harbor, our winters can be brutal and unforgiving! Sometimes I think I should
follow in the footsteps of my mother and become a snowbird in Florida. But then again,
one thing I hate more than the snow is admitting my mother is right!
All this nasty weather reminds me of the afternoons when I was a kid and hanging out
after school with my two best friends, Mona and Liddy, and we would plan our escape
from our dreary, boring lives on this island! By the first snowfall, Bar Harbor looked
like a ghost town! All the summer tourists were long gone, most of the restaurants
and cute shops were boarded up, and the only businesses left open were the grocery
store, the pharmacy, and one tiny Christmas decoration shop that opened just once
a week on Saturday afternoon.
We were impressionable kids back then and yearned for the excitement of the big city
of Bangor, where there were fast-food restaurants, a shopping mall, and more than
one movie theater! To us, this was Mecca!
One cold day in February, the three of us had a sleepover at Mona’s house and we hatched
a plan. It was simple. Sock away our allowances until the next snow day we had off
from school. Then we would escape on the next plane to Honolulu, Hawaii, and sell
t-shirts on Waikiki Beach and date hot Polynesian surfers. Once the logistics of that
plan quickly began to fall apart, we decided on the next best thing! Sneak away to
that bustling cosmopolitan Bangor! Since all of our parents would be working, no one
would realize we were AWOL. By the six o’clock dinner hour, we would be happily munching
on our Big Macs and French fries and living it up in the big city. Or so we thought.
As usual, things didn’t go exactly as planned.
First, our snow day came just two days later, so we hadn’t had a lot of time to build
up our fortune. We had roughly eight dollars and some change among the three of us.
So there went the Big Macs. We’d have to settle for Happy Meals.
Then, after Mona and I trudged through the cold, blowing wind and the heavy snowfall
to Liddy’s house, we found her waving frantically at us through a downstairs window
and holding up a piece of paper that said,
I CAN’T LEAVE! MY MOM STAYED HOME FROM WORK TODAY!
She looked so miserable to be missing out on our great adventure. Poor Liddy. It
was like leaving a wounded soldier behind during a combat mission.
Mona and I continued on for what seemed like hours, but was probably less than thirty
minutes. Finally we arrived on Route 3. Our road to freedom. The plan was to hitchhike,
but there wasn’t a car in sight to pick us up, and the snowstorm was morphing into
a full-blown blizzard. I didn’t say anything to Mona, who was determined to carry
out our plan and kept walking straight ahead. At this point, however, I just wanted
to call it a day and go home.
After a few more torturous minutes, I finally opened my mouth to admit the truth to
Mona, but a loud roaring noise from the top of the hill ahead of us drowned me out.
We both looked up and saw the gigantic town plow truck barreling down the hill toward
us! It took us a second to realize it wasn’t just coming down the hill fast—it was
actually spinning around in circles out of control. We saw Harry Smith, the head town
plowman, desperately trying to straighten out the truck with all of his might, but
it just kept picking up speed. We stood there, rooted to the spot in horror! Poor
Harry suddenly spotted us and his eyes nearly popped out of his head!
At the last possible second, Mona regained her senses and gave me a giant shove and
we both tumbled down the embankment as poor Harry and his truck roared past us. Mona
and I struggled to our feet and scrambled back up to the road, relieved to see that
the truck and Harry were still in one piece. Unfortunately for us, Harry, who later
claimed to have seen his life flash before his eyes as his truck nearly mowed down
two seventh graders, immediately radioed his boss, who, in turn, called our parents.
(Another curse about living in a small town . . . everyone knows everybody!)
I swear, within moments my mother careened around the corner in her big brown Bonneville,
slip-sliding all over the road, with Mona’s mother riding shotgun next to her. Even
from where we stood, hundreds of feet away, we could make out their panicked, angry
faces and instantly knew this outcome was not going to be pretty. We also knew at
that moment it would be a long time before we would be able to “do over” our adventure
because we wouldn’t be seeing the light of day for a long while to come. We didn’t
get dinner, nor were we allowed to watch that night’s episode of
Beverly Hills 90210
! A punishment worse than death!
Well, times have changed, but the weather hasn’t. We still have a couple more long
months of winter left. I know many of you, like me, are on a tight budget because
of the extra heating fuel and all the other unexpected costs that come along with
winter. So I’m going to be sharing budget-friendly recipes for the next few weeks!
This week we are starting off the week’s meals with a “Meatless Monday”! If you ask
me, after a long day there is nothing like a simple, uncomplicated yet satisfying
meal. But don’t panic! There is no reason for me, or anyone else, to sacrifice their
nightly cocktail or two especially at a time like this when it gets dark at the ungodly
hour of 4:30
P.M.
! I guess the one advantage of the sun disappearing so early is that happy hour can
start a little early! So let’s all sit down and relax after work before fixing dinner
with a special cocktail and close our eyes and dream we’re on a beautiful beach somewhere
in Hawaii. I promise you after a couple of these drinks, you will be searching for
a grass skirt and a lei of flowers to do your own hula dance in the living room!
Warm-Me-Up Mai Tai
Ingredients
Ice
1½ ounces of your favorite dark rum
1½ ounces Cointreau
cup pineapple juice
Squeeze of lime juice
2 tablespoons grenadine
Nice pinch of sugar
 
Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add your rum and Cointreau, pineapple juice, grenadine,
lime juice, and sugar. Shake it up and pour ice and all into a tall glass and let
the vacation begin!
Meatless Monday’s Monterey Jack, Poblano, and Mushroom Quesadillas
Ingredients
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 poblano chilies, seeded and minced
1 large red or white onion, your choice, diced
8 ounces your favorite mush-rooms, sliced (about 3 cups)
8 six-inch flour tortillas
1½ cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese
 
In a 10-inch skillet, heat your oil over medium-high heat. Cook chilies, onions, and
mushrooms in oil for about 10 minutes, stirring frequently until tender.
 
Divide your veggie mixture evenly onto 4 tortillas and divide cheese evenly among
the 4 tortillas. Top with the remaining tortillas.
 
Wipe out your skillet with paper towels and spray skillet with nonstick cooking spray.
Heat over medium heat. Place one quesadilla in skillet; cook 1 or 2 minutes or until
golden brown on bottom. Turn and cook 1 or 2 minutes longer, or until golden brown
and cheese is melted. Remove from skillet to your serving platter. Cover to keep warm
until all remaining quesadillas are done. If you like, serve with a dollop of sour
cream and a little salsa.
BOOK: Death of a Coupon Clipper
9.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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