Sock Hop

Hi.

By most standards I am not a picky man when it comes to day-to-day things.  Especially things that are provided to me without much effort on my part. I am almost always good with whatever I'm given.  Happy even.  I don't complain about service at restaurants, or the way food tastes (unless I am the one responsible for preparing it).  I'll admit I have lots of weaknesses, for example, I am not prefect at spelling, or at controlling my damn language (oops), or at getting regular haircuts, but when it comes to NOT being picky--I'm not bad (I don't swear all that often either).

I probably need to rethink my personal picky-ness stance.

Last week I realized that I needed some new dress socks.   Again, I'm not picky, the only thing that I need from my dress socks is (a) for them to be black and (b) for there to be lots of them in the same style so that I don't have to worry about losing one from time to time.  To accommodate these two criteria I usually will buy a large package that contains lots of socks.

I often buy my socks at Target.

This time was no exception.  I entered the men's clothing area and sought out socks.  There side by side hung two seemingly identical packages of socks.  One was 50 cents cheaper than the other.

The following thoughts ran through my mind:

     -A penny saved is a penny earned.
     -A penny in the hand is better than two in the bush.
     -A penny in time saves nine.
     -A spoonful of pennies helps the medicine go down.
     -See the cheaper socks, pick them up, and all the day you'll have good luck.
     -... six cows ... seven cows ... EIGHT COWS!

Then, the music to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas started

"Have yourself a fifty cents for Christmas.  Make the yuletide gay.  From now on our troubles will be fifty cents awaaaay ...  Here we are fifty cents and stuff, fifty cents and stuff like that.  Fifty cents will be dear to us, will be near to us, and splat.  Through the years fifty cents will be together, if fifty cents allows.  Hang that fifty cents upon your highest bough!  And fifty cents, and fifty cents together...Noooooow."

I'll admit that the rhythms don't exactly fit, but as noted above I'm not picky.  And, I didn't realize until reading through my impromptu Christmas carol that I may have called for the lynching of a rapper (I do not endorse hanging Fiddy Cent on the highest bough).
   
Back to the two packs of socks: what could I do?  I took the cheaper pack.

As is often the case when I buy socks, I had a need to wear the newly purchased socks almost immediately upon purchasing them.  So I drove from the Target parking lot to the location of the class that I was scheduled to teach that evening.  That is where I tore into the package of socks.  Nine pairs total.  I selected a pair and slid the first one onto my left foot.

"Hmm," I thought.  "This doesn't quite fit like I expected it to."  I examined the package.  "These are men's socks, right?" I asked myself hoping for confirmation.

They were men's socks.  Black, dress, ankle-length men's socks.

By saving 50 cents, I had cost myself 1/4 of a sock--times 18.  Do the math (0.25*18=4.5).

For two shiny quarters, I traded the equivalent of 4.5 sock units AND the ability to cross my legs at church.

Oh well, I'm not picky.