January 8, 2016--Snowbirding: Checkout at Walmart

"Them sons-of-bitches they cut me this year."

We were on the checkout line at Walmart in Boynton Beach with a cart full of staples for our place in Delray.

"Can't trust a one of 'em." Muttering to himself was a bent-in-half old man--at least 90 by the looks of him--just ahead of us with a half-filled shopping cart.

Ours contained gallon jugs of bottled water, beer, soda and juice, various paper goods, and other essentials that would help get us started during our three months in Florida. His, a few comestibles, some shirtsleeved shirts, underwear, and two six-packs of Bud.

"Sons of bitches," he said again. "Wish there'd be somethin' I could do 'bout it," he spit through missing teeth, this time in our direction.

"Like I said, they cut me."

"Cut you?" I said, with Rona signaling behind his back that I should mind my own business.

"Them bastards in Washington. My social."

"Your social?" Tired from the drive of more than seven hours from Beaufort, SC, it took me awhile to figure out what had got him so riled up.  "I get it. That is I think I do. You're talking about . . ."

Rona continued to be annoyed with me.

"Like I said, my social." He turned away from us, to Rona's relief, as by then he was first in line.

"Help me out here, would you?" he said to the cashier.

"Anything I can do," she smiled.

"How much is this one here?" He was holding up a blue plaid shirt.

"Let me scan it for you." She did. "It's on sale. It says," she pointed to the screen. "only $9.95."

"OK," he said, "You can ring that one up. Now what about this one?" This time he showed her a seven-pack of jockey shorts.

"They're on sale too. Just $4.95."

"Easy for you to say," he snapped.

"Sorry, sir. I'm just trying to be helpful." She continued to smile at him.

I could hear him grumbling, not appreciating her cheery spirit.

"Maybe we should change lines," Rona whispered to me.

"All the other lines are filled with even older people," I exaggerated. "Let's stay where we are. He's almost through."

"How much are the beers goin' for these days?" he asked, "On sale too?"

"Sorry, no. I think those are $6.95," she said. "Want me to scan 'em?"

"I'd rather you total up what I owe you this far. I mean for the shirt, the shorts, and this here beer."

"I can tell you that. It says $21.85. Not including tax. Want me to calculate that?"

"Not necessary, though what they do with the tax is beyond me. Don't do me no good. But that adds up already to more'an I got," he again spat. "Let me put the shirt back. I'll take the shorts. I'm runnin' out of underwear. That way I can get them and pay for the two six-packs." He again looked over toward me, shaking his head.

I nodded back at him. Directly to me he once more said, they cut my social, them sons-of-bitches."

"I think I know what you mean," I said. "They also cut my Social Security this year. I used to get . . ."

Rona jabbed me in the back and I shut up.

"Tell the truth, you don't look like you'll miss it. You got that cart all loaded up and she's quite a looker, your niece or whatever she is."

"My wife," I said softly.

"They're making me pay more for my Medicare and won't even pay to have these choppers fixed." He opened his mouth wide and pointed to all his missing teeth. "Can't any more eat a goddamn apple. Worked all my life and this is what they do to me. I should say, what's left of me." He paused, sighed again, and said, "Not much. Not much is left of me."

"A lot of people feel the same way you do," Rona said, breaking her silence.

"Tell the truth that's no comfort to me. Only makes things worse."

"What do you mean?" Rona asked, even more empathetically.

"Everythin's gottin' worse. For everyone. Tell the truth I don't see much hope. Maybe 'cause I'm so old and bent like a pretzel that I can't see anything good coming along. A good day for me is if I don't fall down flat on my face in the parking lot."

"I wish I could . . . ," Rona stammered.

"That's awfully nice of you ma'am.  Sorry to have upset you. It's a nice day, the sun's out, you're here to have a good time. Don't let the likes of me upset you."

"That's OK," Rona tried to assure him.

"But as I said," I thought he winked, "Them sons-of-bitches. . ."

November 21, 2014--Best of Behind: Black Friday

From November 25, 2012, here's a report about Black Friday. I mentioned Occupy Wall Street. Remember them? I hadn't thought about them for some time. How easy, how quickly we forget--

Every year all the newspapers and every TV station run reports about Black Friday, the day retailers hope that on their P&L statements they will finally begin to show a profit, move from the red into the black. 

The stories are always about how much sales are expected to increase over the year before, how early the stores will be opening, and then the frenzy when the doors finally are opened and shoppers--many of whom have been lined up for days--literally trample each other in a race to buy the latest flat-screen TV for 75% off.

This year, thanks to Occupy Wall Street which, if nothing else, has raised awareness about growing economic inequality, some of what is being reported includes inequalities in holiday shopping itself. Would the following have appeared even in the "liberal" New York Times--replete this time of year with ads for Tiffany and Rolex--if not for the Occupy folks?

One the front page, above the fold, under the headline, "Opening Day For Shoppers Shows Divide," the Times reports:

As the busiest retail weekend of the year began late Thursday night, the differences between how affluent and more ordinary Americans shop in the uncertain economy will be on unusually vivid display.

Budget-minded shoppers will be racing for bargains at ever-earlier hours while the rich mostly will not be bothering to leave home.

Toys “R” Us, Wal-Mart, Macy’s, Kohl’s, Best Buy and Target will start their Black Friday sales earlier than ever—at 9 and 10 p.m. Thursday night in some instances--with dirt-cheap offers intended to secure their customers’ limited dollars. A half a day later, on Friday morning, higher-end stores like Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Nordstrom will open with only a sprinkling of special sales.

The low-end and midrange retailers are risking low margins as they cut prices to attract shoppers, while executives at luxury stores say that they are actually able to sell more at full price than in recent boom years.

“We’re now into a less promotional environment than we were before the recession,“ said Stephen I. Sadove, chairman and chief executive of Saks. In the third quarter, for instance, Saks reduced the length of an annual sale to three days from four, and excluded the high-margin category of cosmetics from another regular sale.

The Times goes on to note that Neiman Marcus, via their "fantasy" catalog, which traditionally features very high-end stuff, this year, within 50 minutes, sold out of Ferraris at $395,000 each. All 10 of them.