Author Archives: Carney

The following statements and perspectives can also be applied to Marshalls, TJ Maxx and Walmart.

The Dollar Store is a place my self-esteem goes to die. And, if yours doesn’t, we need to have a chat about something I like to call, dignity.

Dignity is something many lack. There is proof of this in the music we listen to (Justin Bieber), the food we eat (Taco Bell), the weddings we watch (you know whose I’m referring to).  For those of us who don’t lack it, we certainly are susceptible to a temporary lapse of it from time to time.

Occasionally, when I can’t afford to pick up household items like sponges and paper towels at the grocery store, I venture to the 99 Cent store.  Actually, I can never afford household items at the grocery store and I go the Dollar Store only “on occasion” because that’s all I can fit inside my mental baggage.

My usual trip to the 99 Cent store goes something like this: Throw the car in park, look myself in the mirror, and say, “You’re better than this.” I keep my head up, not down, as making eye contact with any small children or dogs could cause me to feel something. I walk straight to the sponges, then with the grace of a dancer but the determination of an old person trying to stand without passing gas, I walk straight to the paper towels.

Once in line, I judge everyone else, take a look at their wardrobe and mannerisms just to confirm that “yes, I’m definitely not one of them.” I grab the my things, make a bee-line for my car and drive away like it never happened. If I look back in my review mirror, I can actually see a little gravestone in front of the store that says, “Dignity 1983-2011.”

I can also see the store name “99 Cent” and I realize the misgivings I have about the name. Anyone remember “7 Minute Abs,” the workout video that sheepishly tried to one up the “8 Minute Abs” empire? Well, I really hope people don’t choose the 99 Cent store over the stores using ‘Dollar’ in their name based on a 1 cent difference. If anyone has actually ever been swayed by the difference of a cent, I’d like to quarantine them so they can’t poison our society any more than they already have.

The last time I was at the 99 Cent store, someone was trying to return an item. “An” item. “An” is singular, one, uno. Someone was trying to get .99.99 cents back (and whatever tax is). I’m not really into capitalizing or making words bold, but this is an exception. They were trying to get ONE DOLLAR back. ONE DOLLAR! By the looks of the person, I’d assume the headstone out front read “Dignity 1960-2011.” Although, I’m sure there is something they did much earlier to warrant a date of dignity death around 1972.

What is one dollar worth? Is it worth putting pants on, tying up your Keds, putting the item back in the package, walking to your car, getting in the car, turning the car on, seeing you have no gas, stopping for $30 worth of gas, buying a large fry, sitting at red light, trying to find a parking spot, getting out of your car, avoiding the bum asking you for the dollar you’re about to get back, waiting in line and finally, looking absolutely ridiculous asking for one measly dollar back? Or, is it just easier to get a hobby?

In the height of the economic turmoil, even if the woman returning the item lived next door to the 99 Cent store, no, excuse me, even if she lived INSIDE the 99 Cent store, specifically ON the conveyor belt, it’s not worth the trouble. So, here at Sweat the Small Stuff, we’re writing another rule for society. It says, “Don’t bother returning and item under $8, especially if it is perishable. Suck it up and try to salvage whatever dignity you have left.” Save it for your next trip to Six Flags, you’ll need it.