Better Read the Price Tag First

NOTE: A blog post from one of Mrs. Crumly’s unpublished works.

Recently John, the walker and I were shopping in a rather upscale store and as we were strolling back toward the Women’s Department when we saw some flannel shirts.  Of course, John stopped on the spot because he had just asked for a flannel shirt to put on that morning.  He did have such, but they had ugled out and I passed them on.  So now he’s in the market for a shirt or two.  There was no price tag on this hanger of shirts to which I said, “Don’t you think we should check the price first.”  “It don’t matter, I want a flannel shirt.”  “Okay, we’ll stop on the way out,” I replied and we moved on.

Trying on garments in the Women’s Department took longer than he had planned, even though he was seated in a very comfortable chair and he was quick to remind me that we were going back by the shirts.

We did stop and examine the shirts and I noticed they had a Ralph Lauren label in them and again I mentioned price.  There was one that he liked in particular and removed it from the rack, but I suggested that he get two while he was at it. A second was chosen and he moved toward the checkout counter while I parked the walker in another location and sat down.  As John always does, he was engaging in idle conversation as the sales lady very carefully put the shirts on other hangars and then pulled a cover down over them.  I didn’t actually see this, but I guess John swiped the Visa card and waited.  In the next few seconds I heard “Hey, Bill, come over here.”  As I moseyed over toward where he was he was saying to the lady, “I can’t crawl under my car or truck with that on.”  When she handed him the bill to sign, it was for more than $500 and he was having a conniption (to say the least).  Do you remember, I suggested that we check the price tags first?  No reply.  Needless to say, he refused to sign the ticket and asked that that purchase be removed from his account.  She dutifully called her superior and they took care of same.  As we started walking off toward the restroom I said to the sales lady, “Honey, You’ve just encountered a very tight country gentleman.”   She did not respond.

He could not believe the price, but I told him he was paying for the label and he said he was not interested in the label; he just wanted a flannel shirt.  That night we talked to his brother in Detroit and laughingly told the shirt story and would you believe a few days later in the mail he received a flannel shirt sent from Detroit.

We’ve had lots of fun with this story and have told it many times, but it’s just a good reminder that anyone should check the price before they take whatever it is to the checkout counter.  Anyway Dillard’s is not the best place for John to shop since he’s as tight as the bark on a hickory tree.  Growing up in the Great Depression years tends to cause that, you know.

Thought you might enjoy a laugh at our expense with this style of country living.