Nestled between conversations about SPLOST revenue, Jasper's wooden bridge and service delivery areas, water-cooler conversation at the Progress occasionally digresses into more lighthearted banter. Here are two recent stories we thought worthy of sharing.
Cakenomics: How getting locked out of a car equals coconut cake
Each Wednesday our office is busy with foot traffic, readers who come for a fresh-off-the-press newspaper. Many of them know the M.O., plunk their 50 cents on the counter, palm a copy of the Progress and head out the door with a "Thanks," or "See you next week."
Three years ago, a reader came in, dutifully picked up her paper and walked out as usual. But after discovering she had locked her keys in her car, the reader returned to the office for help.
A Progress humanitarian (who ironically displays an "I'm 51 percent sweetheart 49 percent Bitch, don't push it," poster at her desk) graciously went to the woman's car and hunted a magnetic key holder, thought to be tucked inside the wheel well.
After getting on all fours and plunging her hands into unfamiliar places on an unfamiliar car, our employee found nothing, and the woman resorted to now unknown methods to gain access to the inside of her vehicle.
Despite the inability to actually solve the reader's problem, the lady in distress found our worker’s effort worthy of a reward: a spongy gesture of appreciation; a homemade coconut cake. The lady baked the divine confection and brought it in the very next day.
Now, three years later, the Progress still reaps the benefits of this Coconut Cake Lady's graciousness. We polished off her third annual cake installment two weeks ago.
Our Lady of the Coconut Cake is still a regular Wednesday-er, and, for us, the story speaks volumes about the lasting effect of seemingly small actions.
Our kudos to you, Mrs. Cake, and to others who go out of their way to say thank you.
Serious coupon cutting for
serious times
A Progress employee shopping at a local grocery store a few Saturdays ago for some essential midnight items, strolled the aisles, gathered some goods, and sauntered to the front to take a position in the only check-out line open at that hour.
Second behind a woman at the point of paying for her items, the Progress employee and her husband placed their own items on the conveyer and talked of a birthday party they had left just a half-hour before. After several minutes, they noticed other customers piling up behind them, so they shifted their attention to the woman ahead and the clerk at the register.
The clerk was focused, his gaze shifting quickly between the register’s computer screen and a fistful of coupons in his left hand. The woman held steady, thumbing through a small, plastic organizer tagged with little tabbed dividers keeping her “household cleaner” coupons away from the ones for “meats and cheeses” (or so the organizer’s designer had imagined).
“That’s going to be $73,” the clerk finally called out, answered by an exasperated sigh of relief our staffer thought unusual for a midnight grocery store shopper.
She peered at the woman’s cart and was taken aback. Every available inch was full of bagged groceries. The undercarriage, the little basket for milk and juices, the child’s seat and, of course, the cart’s main body which was stacked several bags deep. A few bags heaped on top looked ready to plummet to the ground with the first careless bump.
“That’s a lot of cart for $73,” the Progress employee said to the woman just before the clerk rolled up a receipt the size and scope of the Magna Carta.
“You saved $141. That’s the most I have ever seen,” the clerk said with a tone of accomplishment, implying that the annoyance of ringing in dozens of coupons was somehow worth the effort.
Her purchase completed, the woman rolled her $73, half-ton cart out the automatic doors and into the dark parking lot. The Progress staffer carted in this story the following Monday.
So here are some kudos for you also, Coupon Lady, for your inspiring tale of frugal savings in hard times. (And for being considerate enough to do your shopping at midnight, when other customers are at a minimum). |
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