My husband is back with another guest post, this time around he is sharing his thoughts on the fact that not all great deals are about the money you save, but instead about the service you receive.

“Attention Devoted Deal-seekers!  I just got the most AMAZING deal on movie tickets!  I took my wife out to the movies, purchased tickets, and they GAVE me the correct change that I was owed!  Is that a ROCKIN’ BARGAIN or what? ”

How ridiculous would it be to read this type of endorsement about any business?  Okay, actually, there are a few stores that I could name where getting the correct change is rare enough that it may seem close to miraculous, but most people only go to these places when they are real desperate, like they have a severed limb and need a bandage or something.  In general though, nobody would be excited about just getting what they expected to get.  As consumers we insist on receiving certain basic things…like getting the correct change.  This is what I refer to as “Dial-Tone-Service”.

No one picks up the phone and then jubilantly shouts to nearby friends, “Hey!  This phone has a dial tone!” (If you do get excited about a dial tone, contact me so I can sell you a Magic Bread Box.  It is an astonishing device that miraculously transforms plain slices of white bread into fancy golden-browned food that chef-wizards call “toast”.  Ooooh…)

The point is, great deals are not great because they give you what you can get everywhere else, they are great because they exceed your expectations or provide you with savings that are out of the norm.  Likewise, great companies are not defined by how they treat customers when everything happens as it should.  The true measure of a great company is how they handle hiccups and challenges.  Consequently, I want to extol the virtues of one of my favorite companies, Disney.

Recently, my wife and I took a quick side-trip to Disneyland while I was traveling on business. As part of the trip we decided to splurge to see whether a Disney Hotel was worth the premium you pay to stay at one of their company-owned facilities.  We had a wonderful time at the parks and strolling through downtown Disney where we enjoyed the carefree ambiance that permeates every clean, friendly corner of the development.  However, when we got back to our room, there was a problem that dampened the euphoria of our day in Disneyland.  Having stayed out late, we determined that attempting to remedy the situation that evening was not worth the trouble so we went to bed agreeing to attend to the matter in the morning.

We called down to the front desk early the next morning to have them address the problem and were assured that everything would be resolved that day.  We spent another memorable day enjoying time together and again returned late at night, ready to sleep soundly at the Grand Californian Hotel.  To my profound dismay, there was a breakdown somewhere in the service delivery process which resulted in the problem not getting resolved, in fact, the problem was worse.

The reality of life is that sometimes things go awry.  Even the most polished and meticulous businesses will at some point experience an occasional bump in the road.  What separates the good from the great is how they respond to these difficulties.  Thankfully, I am happy to report that the Disney organization did not just offer me “Dial-Tone-Service”.  They acknowledged the misstep, and then went out of their way to rectify the situation.  They were gracious, apologetic, honest, and sincere in wanting to fix things and make them right.  They exceeded my expectations and reaffirmed why our family has come to love the Disney organization.  Because of their commitment to excellence, they continue to hold a place of prestige when our family decides where to spend our vacation dollars.  Are they perfect?  Of course not.  But do they try harder than most?  I believe that they do, and this adds value to the deal.

As an aside, the location of the Grand Californian Hotel was phenomenal!  Being able to walk out of the Hotel into the parks was a huge benefit.  But great amenities coupled with apathetic service will not win my loyalty.  However, outstanding service that is meaningful and genuine will secure my devotion; for that I submit that the Disney experience is a wonderful deal.   Not all great deals are about how much money you save, sometimes they involve paying a little more to get greater value because you receive superior service or a premium product.  The key is to find those companies that provide value in their product or service offerings over the long run, ones that consistently deliver and therefore stand out.

If you have had an experience with a company that turned a bad situation into a good one, share your story so we can all expand our pool of “go-to” businesses.  We all love a great deal, even if the great deal costs just a little bit more.

The post The Value of a Deal (Sometimes you pay more, because you get more) appeared first on Gather Lemons.

Norman Cousins, talking about NASA’s historic trip to the moon, once said, “What was most significant about the lunar voyage was not that men set foot on the moon but that they set eye on the earth.”    Sometimes it is the change in our perspective that most effectively transforms our life.   Like astronauts looking at the earth from space, the world takes on a whole new beauty when viewed from above.

Such is the case for the novice attempting to transition into the mystical world of frugal shoppers.   Those that have truly caught the vision of thrift and parsimony go through life with an instinctive, unconscious shopping rhythm that is somewhat foreign to the casual bargain seeker. With practiced precision they glide along taking advantage of deals and savings as effortlessly as a butterfly floats among the flowers in a field. This became charmingly apparent last week as I spent the weekend with my wife on a quick getaway to Bend, Oregon.

Nestled among the beauty of rolling rivers and rustic outdoor charm, I was amazed as I witnessed not only the splendor of nature, but the magnificence of my wife in action.   Having forgotten to bring my sunglasses, we made a quick detour to a local shopping center to search for a pair of “clip on shades” for my prescription glasses – très chic, I know.   Incredibly, my wife was able to locate a Target store almost instantly and she promptly ushered me into her sanctuary, her fortress of strength and energy renewal.   (In hindsight, it may very well be that my wife surreptitiously removed my sunglasses so that we would be forced to go to one of her cherished Target stores.   I suddenly have an overwhelming sense that I may be the victim of very sophisticated manipulation.)

It only took me a few minutes to realize that the store did not have the nerdy apparel that I sought, but desperate for relief from the blinding ball of fire in the sky, I considered other options.   I spotted a pair of sunglasses with incredibly large lenses thinking they could be worn over my regular glasses.   They were probably women’s glasses, but feeling confident in my manhood I felt certain I could pull it off without tarnishing my masculinity too much.   Observing myself in the small mirror I quickly determined that I looked like someone wearing two small frying pans, like some sort of pathetic Frankenstein alien whose face had been pieced together with the discarded remnants of an abandoned kitchen.   Not wanting to frighten small children I moved on.

Perhaps sunglasses were the wrong choice. I contemplated whether Bend Oregon was known as a refuge for Bedouin nomads.   Maybe I could veil myself from the sun with a series of scarves like the shimagh of an Arab tribal leader.   Even with my limited fashion expertise I swiftly resolved that a headscarf or turban, while possessing a certain mysteriousness and giving me the air of a royal desert sheik, did not quite work when combined with khaki shorts that exposed my pallid white legs and flip flops.   (Being from Seattle, I claim the “Pasty White Rain Exemption” which relieves me of any responsibility from having pigment-free legs.)

Resolving that my quest for relief from the solar glare of the sun was not to be settled at Target I looked around for my wife who had somehow wandered away during my brief search.   I spotted her finishing up a transaction at the cash register.      How had she made a purchase so fast?   We had only been in the store for a few minutes.   Walking over to her I looked at her inquisitively as she smiled with a genuine sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

“Did you find the clip-on sunglasses somewhere else in the store?” I asked.   It would not have been the first time that she was able to almost magically locate an item that eluded other mere mortal shoppers such as myself.

“No,” she replied, I wasn’t looking for them.   I thought you were doing that. But, I just picked up some Post-It notes for FREE!”

I stood there, staring at her in bewilderment, as she glowed with excitement showing me her receipt as though it were a prized Blue Ribbon.   We were 250 miles from home, enjoying a quasi-vacation get away in a beautiful city, and yet, she somehow had managed to use a coupon to get free products.

“How did you do that…and why? We are on vacation.”

“Well, I always have my coupons with me, and this sale is ending soon so I needed to combine my coupon with the sale today because it would be over by the time we got back home.   Coupon plus sale price equals FREE stuff! Isn’t that awesome?”

Amazed at how her thrifty nature was almost subconsciously directing her actions, my world took on a new beauty.   While I wriggled in my cozy cocoon, happy to remain in my larval “only-use-coupons-when-I-have-to” condition, my wife flitted from deal to deal drawing the nectar from life found in each fragrant shopping trip.

It was not as though we had an urgent need for Post-It notes. There was no colossal emergency that dictated we should pursue such a purchase while on vacation.   Terrorists were not demanding we deliver slightly sticky slips of paper in exchange for the life of our children.   But there was a profound lesson contained within the frugal actions of my wife. When thrifty living becomes an integral part of our lives, we seize opportunities, both large and small, to practice provident living at all times.   In doing so, we improve our chances to thrive and position ourselves to better help others, to more fully enjoy life, and to recognize the blessings around us.

“Houston, this is the Apollo, we are safely in orbit with a new perspective of the world.  Amazing!”   I may not be an astronaut, but I do have a grander perspective on thrifty living, and what a refreshing perspective indeed.

~Steve

The post A Thrifty Perspective appeared first on Gather Lemons.

Several months ago, I promised my wife that I would participate in a “coupon laden shopping trip” as part of a feature on her blog. (I know, even the phrase sounds abhorrent doesn’t it?) In hindsight, I have come to believe that I was somehow manipulated into agreeing to this ridiculous idea. Perhaps she put some sort of “coupon ecstasy” drug in my meals to lower my defenses and weaken my resistance to her fanatical, shopping lunacy, because I find it hard to believe that I ever cogently agreed to such a thing.

When my wife reminded me that I still needed to go on my “shopping trip” I reasoned that since we had just moved it was probably better to wait until everything was settled. To my surprise she agreed and internally I congratulated myself on a wonderful deflection. My sentence of death by coupons had been delayed. With any luck, she would forget about the idea and I would live out my life in blissful, coupon-free liberty…unfortunately, Albertson’s ruined my plans!

Two days after my wife granted me a coupon reprieve, Albertson’s came out with some sort of double coupon/rebate special, and my wife immediately revoked her concession to suspend my “coupon trip” with an urgent and almost irrational explanation that this deal was TOO good, and her coupon collection was perfectly matched to maximize some SERIOUS savings and score some SWEET deals. What’s more, she gave me no time to prepare. “Get your shoes on. We need to go today because my coupons are expiring and I have enough coupons for two people.

I tried to protest. “You can’t just demand that I immediately go shopping with coupons! I need time to mentally prepare, to build up my courage and enact a game plan. You act like you are going through coupon menopause, hungrily hoping for a final bargain baby; how about if I go next weekend?”

“You have 30 minutes to get ready while I prepare your shopping list.” She walked off with a giddy giggle quietly reviewing complex calculations under her breath. I felt like a kid that had been told he could go to the store to get ice cream only to be taken to the dentist for a root canal. Shortly my wife returned with a shopping list and a serious look. “Okay, now I know this is for the blog, but don’t screw it up on purpose thinking you will be funny—you won’t. You have to pay attention to what you are doing or else you will waste all my coupons.” She handed me the shopping list attached to a thin store circular with a collage of various products that were on sale and could be combined in groups to qualify for rebate savings. “I know you think you are bright, but seriously, you better do this right, or else.”

I laughed off her threat trying to convince myself that my wife was being playful, but inside I began to experience pangs of real fear, ”…you better do this right, or else…” echoed through my mind, or else what, I wondered? I looked down at my list thinking this shouldn’t be too tough, after all, the store ad had pictures of the stuff I was supposed to buy. It would be like a simple treasure hunt. Match the picture to the product and put it in my cart. Resolved and bolstering my courage I took a deep breath and started to leave. “Wait, don’t forget your coupons.”

I stared down in disbelief at the exhaustive quantity of coupons that my wife was handing me. Her reluctant grip lingered on the coupons before she finally released them with the consternation of an overly protective parent who was leaving their only child with an incompetent babysitter. Why on earth would I ever need such an obese collection of coupons? Confused, I looked up, “My shopping list is not that long. Why do I need so many coupons?” She looked at me disdainfully as if I had asked, “Why do we need to breathe?”

“First, this is a double coupon shopping trip, two coupons for each item. Second, the store might not have exactly everything on the list. You might need to substitute something to make sure your total purchase amount, before coupons, achieves the qualifying amount. In that case, use one of the different coupons, but make sure the item is one of the advertised items, and if there is a double coupon, use both of them, and make sure that you get to the total dollar amount I wrote on your list, but don’t go too far over. You want to be just over $30, to get the 15 dollar rebate, so don’t purchase any extra items, if you can get to exactly $30, even better.”

My head was already spinning. This was going to be more complicated than I had imagined. I started to silently pray that the store would have everything on the list as I grabbed my keys and headed to the car, distractedly considering whether I could just keep driving and head to some coupon free nation that did not have extradition agreements with the United States. Does such a paradise even exist?

We arrived at Albertson’s and I grabbed a cart trying to project an air of confidence, a man in control, a shopping Samurai with no fear. My wife took her cart in one direction and I went in the exact opposite. After all, a guy needs some space to summon his mojo. I decided to start with something easy, Chex Mix. I looked at the picture on the ad and saw the familiar “Chex Mix” logo. But my inexperience became immediately apparent. While I could clearly see that Chex Mix was advertised, I couldn’t tell if it was regular Chex Mix, Cheddar Chex Mix, or Bold Chex Mix. Would it matter what kind of Chex Mix I bought? My former optimism and confidence withered as I struggled with this first decision. “Don’t mess up…or else” rang through my head.

Breathe. I can do this. Surely they would all qualify right? I decided that it was a symbolic sign, a foreshadowing of my coupon expedition. I grabbed the Chex Mix Bold. “Go Bold or Go Home”, I whispered to myself, trying to regain my confidence. I placed the Chex Mix in my cart, double, and then triple checked my list, the circular, the coupons and the product. Everything looked to be in order, on to the next item.

I actually picked up the next several items with relative ease. The pictures on the store ad matched exactly with the coupons that I had and the product on the shelves. I was starting to build some steam. I just might survive. Then I came to Pillsbury cookies. I scanned the cookie aisle 3 times, then 4 times. There were lots of cookies but none matched the picture from the ad. I couldn’t find any cookies made by Pillsbury. How could something so yummy, like a cookie, be producing such panic and discomfort. Surely I couldn’t screw up on cookies… but what was I missing?

On the corner of the aisle I noticed a stack of maps of the store that showed each aisle and what the main items were. I grabbed a map thinking that maybe there was some special Pillsbury cookie aisle. I began to walk up and down the store turning my map every which way trying to orient it to the various aisles. I looked like a foreign tourist searching for Elvis landmarks. To my dismay, there was no aisle marked, “Pillsbury Cookie Aisle”. As I began to sink into despair, I suddenly noticed a lady with a stack of coupons and a shopping cart that was half full. She had just placed an item into her cart and with a practiced precision she deftly folded a coupon into her front pocket, apparently the place she transferred her coupons once she had added the coupon item to her cart. Nice technique. She had a sort of James Dean coupon coolness the way her thumb maneuvered the coupons succinctly into her pocket, no wasted motion. She must definitely be a coupon veteran.

I slowly pushed my cart in her direction hoping that perhaps she would recognize a fellow coupon shopper and offer some assistance. Was there a special wave that coupon shoppers used? I have often seen motor cycle riders pass each other on the freeway giving a fraternal wave that seems to be nothing more than the bikers pointing downward as they pass one of their two-wheeled colleagues. Given her cool James Dean coupon flair, I decided to offer a motorcycle-type wave, pointing downward as I neared her cart and gesturing with what I considered to be a frugal wave. She briefly glanced down, not recognizing my “coupon-club” wave, and then veered her cart around the area where I had previously pointed (waved). Clearly I had not correctly delivered an appropriate coupon wave as she took my gesticulation to be some kind of warning to avoid an unseen danger on the floor.

As she continued down the aisle, I found myself once again surrounded by cookies of all variety but nothing resembling the Pillsbury picture. I would like to tell you that the Pillsbury Dough Boy appeared to me in a dream and revealed to me that the Pillsbury cookies were actually cookie dough stocked in the refrigerated section. Unfortunately, the revelation of the Pillsbury cookies came from my wife, who seemed to have sensed that somehow her precious coupons were in jeopardy. As she walked by at the end of the aisle and noticed me gazing numbly at rows of cookies, she immediately recognized my problem and without wasting any words simply uttered, “Pillsbury dough is refrigerated…” as she disappeared from view with her cart already piled three times higher than mine. I marveled at how she was able to surmise the situation, offer an expeditious remedy and continue on with her shopping without even breaking stride. Refrigerated cookie dough—of course! It seemed so obvious after my wife pointed it out. I trudged down the aisle trying to persuade myself that I would have figured it out eventually.

Finishing with my shopping list, I began to carefully review each item. Like a S.W.A.T team bomb technician cautiously referencing schematics to deactivate an explosive device, I vigilantly examined each item and ensured that I had the appropriate coupons. The time had come to check out and be judged. Had I done everything properly to qualify for the rebate that was supposed to print out at the end of the transaction? With the reluctance of a death row inmate, I slowly headed to the check stands. As I approached, I tried to assess each cashier, looking for one I thought was the most susceptible to bribery. If something went wrong, I was prepared to pay $100 for them to somehow produce a receipt that showed gobs of savings and qualified for the rebate. They could even charge me full price for the items so long as the receipt looked like I had redeemed all the coupons and received the special rebate. Sadly, I did not see a cashier that appeared to be shady, so I went to the closest register.

As the cashier dispassionately began to ring up each item, the beeping of the scanner seemed like the echoes from an electrocardiogram, “beep, beep”. At any moment I almost expected the tone to change to a constant drawn out “beeeeeeeeep”, indicating that I had flat-lined. I imagined the cashier transforming into some sort of bargain doctor, “Time of coupon death, 3:15pm. Bag boy, please inform the next of kin that this shopper didn’t make it.”

Numbly waking from my reverie, I realized the cashier had finished ringing up the items and was now scanning all of the coupons. Finishing with the last one, he pressed the total button and time seemed to stop. The amount owed was incredulously insignificant, which seemed impossible considering all the stuff I had just bought, but despite this amazing result, I was fixated on the printer that was somehow supposed to magically print out the rebates. If I did not bring back the rebates I would clearly have failed. Time seemed to move in slow motion as I stared at the printer…but it remained silent. PRINT you infernal machine PRINT!

I suddenly longed for a robbery. Maybe if I was shot during a grocery store hold-up all would be forgotten. I could theorize that the rebates were lost in the mayhem of the shooting. Why didn’t I move my family to a more disreputable and dangerous town?!

Then, without fanfare, the printer timidly began to print and out came the cherished slips of paper. Could it be? The cashier handed me the rebates and I gingerly cupped them in my hands as though cradling the original manuscripts of some Shakespearian classic. It had worked! I had used the coupons. I had qualified for the rebates, and the anguishing nightmare was over. I looked up to see my wife standing a few yards away, like the proud coach of a young athlete who had just won his first competition. I raced over and anxiously handed her the rebates and the receipt. “It worked. Your crazy plan actually worked.”

With a knowing smile she proudly responded, “See that wasn’t so bad. It was kind of fun wasn’t it?” Begrudgingly, I admitted that it was exhilarating in a strange sort of way. It almost seemed like a sporting conquest that produced a certain sense of euphoria, or was that ecstasy?

-Steve

The post My Husband’s Coupon Shopping Experience appeared first on Gather Lemons.

I told him it would be fun if he went out and actually did the grocery shopping using a big ol’ stack of coupons. My husband is NOT a coupon user. He didn’t think it sounded like fun. I convinced him to give it a try anyway. I wasn’t aware of it, but my husband Steve headed to KFC to use the “Oprah” coupon, he thought it would be best if he started with one coupon before he tried to use a whole stack of them. You can read about his adventure below.