I Buy Stuff | ididthings

I Experienced a Christmas Miracle

Posted on December 8, 2007 by jddidthings

And baby there’ll be
Dancin’ in the streets
For the miracle

I hope all my readers will experience a Christmas miracle. To some, a miracle may take the form of an unexpected kindness from a stranger. To others, it might involve a baby in a manger. And to others, it might be simply be a feeling of peace and well-being.

My miracle involved a pillow and $14.

Here’s how my Christmas miracle went down:

A few weeks ago, after blinding shoulder pain had been keeping me awake at night, I thought it might be time to trade in that Walgreen’s $5.99 pillow for something a little better. I had a 20%-off coupon for Bed, Bath, & Beyond, and, guess what? As per the “Bed” part of their name, they sell pillows. Good ones! So off I went.

Man, it’s hard to buy a pillow. Even when, despite uncomfortable stares from other shoppers, I lie down on the floor to test it. You can’t tell how a pillow is going to feel just by poking it or leaning your head onto it where it sits on the shelf. Still, even if it’s comfortable on the floor of BB&B, how do I know it’s going to work at home, in my bed, while I sleep?

Summoning the wisdom of thousands of shoppers before me, I went with the age-old guideline: more expensive equals more better. I settled on this Tempur-Pedic pillow, which “only” cost $70.00. But I figured, for that price, it must work, right? Even for my weird body. How could a pillow that expensive not be comfortable for every living person on the planet? So I bought it, and I kind of hated myself.

At first, it felt great. I was definitely comfortable lying on my back. Unfortunately, I cannot fall asleep on my back, so the true test came when I rolled over to my side. Hmmm. Shift over a bit? Scrunch it up a little? Move it to the left? No. Not comfortable. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to sleep. It’s not easy to sleep with gritted teeth and a determined grimace, so I didn’t really sleep at all.

But I couldn’t face defeat. It had to work. Not only because I dreaded another pillow-buying excursion, but because I had cut off the tags. I know! You’re not supposed to do that. But I was so sure this would be my pillow for the rest of my life, I cut those suckers off with wild glee and only a fleeting sense of guilt.

After four nights, tho, I had to admit this pillow was broken. It just did not work for me. I faced a lifetime of sleepless nights until my mom convinced me to try returning it.

So I showed up BB&B, carrying this naked pillow in a plastic bag. It felt so embarrassingly personal—this bare, un-tagged pillow that I had lain my head on, and I was parading it through the store and up to the clerks at the customer service counter.

But, lo! The angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them and they took the damn pillow back–no tags, no box, no problem (I did still have the receipt). Not only that, they credited my Visa rather than give me the silver medal of store credit.

But that, my friends, is not the miracle.

I had to wait for the nice old man—obviously a temp clerk working the holiday season—to figure out how to handle a return. I was so grateful they were taking back the pillow, I didn’t care how long I had to stand there, sweating in my coat. I was in such a jolly mood I considered buying a talking monkey keychain, whose label tantalizingly promised “With IEEEEEEEEEEE Sound.” Unfortunately, many other sweaty shoppers before me must’ve been tempted by the button on the keychain that produced the sound, because none of the monkey’s heads emitted the “IEEEEEEEEEEE” sound. ANYway, the nice clerk called a supervisor to approve the credit, and before he handed me back the original receipt, he said, “Oh, I forgot to take off for the coupon.” The supervisor looked at the receipt, looked at me, and looked at the clerk. We waited for her response. The monkey keychains waited—in silence. “Forget it,” she said. I got the original amount I paid plus the $14.00 taken off for the coupon plus a look from the supervisor that said, “Next time, you won’t be so lucky, pillow girl.”

So, I’m back to my flattened Walgreen’s pillow, but compared to the expensive model, it feels pretty good. And maybe—just maybe, that’s the real Christmas miracle.

Or not.

* Today’s lyrics are courtesy of Barry Manilow! (for Kathy)

I Hate Fruit

Posted on August 3, 2007 by jddidthings

Me and the farmer like brother, like sister
Getting on like hand and blister

I may hate fruit, but I love farmers markets. Especially when they happen to be set up next to a giant cheesecake store.

Yesterday, my mom and I went to Eli’s Farmers Market in Portage Park, where I supported my local farmers by buying a slice of cheesecake, a whole cheesecake, Greek yogurt with honey, and . . . fruit.

Yes, I bought fruit, but this was supposed to be some kind of magical, life-altering fruit. Normally I eat fruit only to avoid scurvy and also because I’m easily intimidated by those crazed health nuts who insist that we all have to eat something like 90 servings of fruit a day to survive. I usually have my fruit in the form of a blended smoothie so I don’t have to actually chew anything. I do like fruit flavor—an apple pie can be delicious if you carefully pick out the apples and eat only the apple-y goo and crust. I’m not at all opposed to the fruit-flavored Pop Tarts, and now that Fruit Loops come with those marshmallow treats, I’m all over it.

Anyway, back to the farmers market. I spent most of my time at the Delightful Pastries stand, eyeing the poppyseed cake, giant muffins, and butter cookies. I considered some grape tomatoes. I pretended to read the literature at Eli’s stand so I wouldn’t feel guilty about eating their free cheesecake samples. I joined my mom at a fruit stand, turned up my nose at the watermelons and peaches and started walking away when I heard the vendor explain how one variety of his melons was, like, 18% sugar.

I suddenly became interested in fruit.

“Which is the one with all the sugar?” I asked.

Turns out the intriguingly named butterscotch melon is so sweet and delicious you can’t even believe you’re eating fruit. It’s supposed to really have a rich, butterscotchy flavor. Fruit that tastes like dessert! Sounds like my kind of fruit. I couldn’t pass it up.

I put our bags in the car so we could shop a bit more. When we returned, the car smelled like a melon patch had exploded in the backseat. That ripe melon smell wasn’t doing much for my tastebuds, but I was still looking forward to my butterscotch melon.

Once home, I set my new fruity friend on the counter and soon the whole house smelled like melon. Not like an exotic, sweet, sugary, butterscotch melon, but like a plain old overripe canteloupe. But, I thought, it will taste extraordinary. I will have a new fruit in my life. Everything will be different from now on, fruit-wise.

Which would you rather eat?

When I could take it (and by “it,” I mean the smell) no more, I cut into the melon with great anticipation. EWWWwww! (See above.) It looked just like a mushy muskmelon. Never mind, I thought, it will taste completely different: complex, sweet, like nothing I’ve ever eaten before. The fruit vendor promised!

It tasted like a canteloupe. Worse, an overripe canteloupe. I took a few bites, then threw it away. Damn you, fruit! Will I never learn?!

If you want to support your local farmer:

In the Chicago area, the Eli’s Farmers Market is every Thursday through October 18 from 7 AM to 1:30 PM. Call (773) 736-3417 for information.
Find a farmers market in your state.
Show your love by wearing “orgasmic” T-shirts.

If you want to hate fruit:

Focus on vegetables instead. Did you know a red pepper has way more vitamin C than a stinky old orange?
Get your fruit from other sources, like cereal, healthful snacks, and refreshing desserts.