I neurotically turn down all sales pitches no matter how great the offer. I’ve gotten good at cutting people off before they begin.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

Little head nods. Little smile exchanges.

“I wonder if you…”

“No thanks.” The head nods move to an immediate, blocking maneuver. Sometimes, even hands are necessary.

“Well, it’s just...”

“I’m good.”

I’m not wanting to be mean about it, but I just want to save them time. Whatever it is… free, diamond-encrusted, solid-gold, life-changing, take-your-breath-away, never-work-again, never-exercise-again, never-lift-a-finger-to-move-again, never-move-again yaddi yadda yadda.

All I know is that I do not want it.

I’m in the zone. I’m a sage whose reached fiscal enlightenment.

Although I still get suckered in sometimes. I still have those moments where my gaze catches that gimmicky thing and it’s like being caught in the clutches of the death star. I will pay whatever I have to pay to have that thing that I did not even know existed before this moment because I just know everything will be different from this point on now that this thing is a part of my life.

Little Kidney Punches

So I was just dumping coins into the Coinstar machine at Albertsons when this old man passed by me with a grin and said with a strong, New York accent, “Too lazy to count your own money?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I said.

Why do I love people like that?