What I am talking about is a piece of paper or a smartphone code that gives me a discount price.
Voucher, coupon, whichever, whatever.
Naturally there is a hierarchy in the world of vouchers as there is in the world of James Bond actors or brands of pickled herring. Not all vouchers are created equal. Here are three must-know factors in voucher valuation.
Firstly, voucher value depends on your deep down desires.
What do you really really like?
I ordered online a collection of Dave Barry’s humour columns. The book came from an obscure provincial bookseller somewhere in the English countryside, and it came with a voucher. 15% off my next order from Jolly Jokesters Books in Middle Muddleton UK. That’s right …. 15%. Well that pushed my voucher button I can tell you. More Dave Barry for less.
I showed it to my beloved but she was not impressed. She doesn’t like Dave Barry. I’ve read aloud some prime extracts, but she doesn’t even snigger. It’s guy humour.
“But” I said “it’s a voucher. Everyone loves a good voucher”.
And then she uttered the immortal words never heard before, since time began.
“I don’t wag my tail for every voucher”.
That said it all didn’t it ? There are vouchers and there are vouchers. Some are worth wagging for like a labrador at a doggie play date. Other vouchers just don’t stir the tail wagging one little twitch.
So, ask yourself, does that voucher tantalise you or tranquilise you?
Secondly, beware, some vouchers amount to two fifths of 10% of next to nothing.
Another bookshop I patronize sends me a $10 voucher for every $300 I spend at the store. Just think of that. Not too closely though. A $10 discount for $300 worth of purchases is – let me think now- I’ll just Google it – a touch over 3% off. That’s right. A whole 3%.
Professor B.F. Skinner was famous for the Pigeon Guided Missile* (I am not making that up). He also used pigeons to research the effectiveness of random rewards (like vouchers). He found that a pigeon would peck at one spot up to 1000 times if it was randomly reinforced with a seed every now and then.
I confess, I am that pecking pigeon. I’m not about to substitute myself for a pigeon inside a cruise missile, but give me a voucher, even a 3% crumb every 6 months or so, and I’ll keep on buying. And every time I make a purchase I think “this will get me closer to my next voucher”. Pathetic really. But such is the power of the voucher.
Our health food store gives us vouchers on special occasions such as birthdays and “We need to Pay the Rent Day.”
“25%-off all full priced items in store” said the voucher.
So I went to the shop wagging my tail with that voucher. I found the biodynamic bone broth sachets with added kombucha and carefully carried them to the counter for my voucher reward and bragging rights. The smug shopkeeper explained that, as most items were already discounted compared to the recommended retail price in Iceland, no further discounts applied. And she gave me a look as if to repeat PT Barnum’s thesis “There’s a sucker born every minute”. The voucher was useless except for discounts on the nearly expired bottles of pickled herring oil sitting on the counter. My tail dropped. It was voucher vandalism. Coupon corruption. Discount deception.
Thirdly, look out for the vouchers that are really worthwhile. One local discount store offers genuine “Buy 4 get 1 free” vouchers on a particular product. It is a genuine offer. I have seen customers walking proudly out of the store with five packages balanced high like the leaning tower of Pisa.
That’s the problem. The products – packs of 96 rolls of toilet paper – are so huge that buying five at once (480 rolls) is at loo-gistic nightmare.
If I bought five packs I would have to rent a van to transport them home and then build a special shed out the back to store them all. But this is not a trick voucher. The sellers really are offering a genuine 20% discount with that coupon. But some genuine bargains, like twelve chairs for the price of one, are just too difficult to take advantage of.
In our neighborhood, there is one voucher that is always warmly welcomed. Every year in September Easy Eric’s local restaurant distributes 50%-off vouchers for each household of eager eaters. These vouchers cause the local taste buds to tingle with drooling expectation, like a well trained dog facing its dinner but waiting for the “OK” command.
Easy Eric’s tinned crab salad with a garnish of seafood extender is to die for. His chicken kebab (singular) on a bed of rice and wilted spinach is deliciously deadly.
Eric prides himself on his desserts. He once talked to a man who knew someone who ate a New York cheesecake while in New York, so Eric advertises his version as “authentic NYC recipe”. I must agree it’s fatally flavoursome but a touch too cheesy with the parmesan sprinkled on top.
Gradually, with growing wisdom, I’m becoming more coupon careful and more voucher vigilant. I am no longer the tail wagging beagle who will sniff out every offer and gobble them all. I’m growing more circumspect in my choices, like a pampered poodle carefully separating the chunks of fillet steak and spitting out the dog biscuits.
I don’t wag my tail for every voucher.
© Geoff Milton 2019
