The Red Toaster

One day our toaster decided to be a jackass to no longer latch when the lever was engaged.

As in: it no longer wanted to toast. In essence, it suddenly was toast. (Heh.)

I mentioned it to Mr Lannis, said we could probably find a good deal at our local second hand store.

I'm cheap frugal. I love me a good second hand store, because I love a good deal and I like to recycle.

Normally I don't purchase things that require electricity at thrift stores—you never know if they're going to work—the exceptions being small appliances like irons (I have two, each with a designated task: one for sewing and one to lift stains from the carpet), and toasters. If they bust, well, it only cost $3 so what does it really matter? A toaster is a toaster, and an iron is an iron after all—their jobs are pretty straightforward, and bells and whistles don't matter much when the nutshell of your job is to get warm.

Anyhow.

Shortly thereafter I go grocery shopping. There, in the aisle with the chips, I spot a schnazzy red toaster calling my name.

She's purdy.

 She was $19.99.

Nope, can't justify that.

In Ontario we also have tax, so that toaster wouldn't just cost $19.99, but $19.99 plus 13% tax. Yeah. Pretty, right? Ugh.

So I go home and whine relate the tale of the shiny red toaster to Mr Lannis, who helpfully points out I have no business in the chip aisle has decided we need to suck it up and jiggle the lever for our old toaster until the damn thing decides to latch.

Of course, he's not making toast for (sometimes seven) kids in the morning before school.

Off I go the next week, grocery shopping as per my routine, and there's the shiny red toaster again. This time it's on sale.

$14.97. A savings of $5.02.

This I can justify. It's pretty. I like red. We need a toaster. I tell Mr Lannis.

Mr Lannis says I should go ahead and buy the toaster (okay, you got me—I'd already made up my mind to buy it at this point, but I like to give him the illusion that his opinion sways me run things by him anyway).

So back I go to grab me a red toaster. At the self-checkout, my stomach drops when my marvelous toaster scans in at full price.

Yes: $19.99!

What shenanigans is this...?

I call the attendant over, and she sends someone to check the posted price. Yep, $14.97. It's registering incorrectly.

Oh, and there's a policy at this particular store (Zehrs, a Loblaws sister store), that dictates that if you catch something ringing in at the wrong price it is then free—up to a $10 amount.

So I get $10 off the price of my toaster.

Really truly, no guff!

After tax this girl came to a whopping $6.92.

One little red toaster, sitting on my counter, making me smile for multiple reasons.

It wanted to come home with me.