I’m a bit of a bargain hunter. So much so that conversations with my mother are either about the latest crazy thing my nieces and nephews have done or the latest deal one of us has found. But my bargain hunting branches less from the thrill of the hunt and more from my absurd fear to spend too much money. I have the constant, “What if…” running through my head every time I swipe my debit card. What if I get in an accident and need to go to the hospital? What if I lose my job? What if I never find another way to make this sum back and end up not being able to pay rent?
Absurd. Especially considering the fact that I’ve been able to do some awesome things on very little cash. I managed to backpack around Europe for a whole month one fall off the money I made at a summer job. I live in one of the more expensive neighborhoods in the city.Hell, I live in a city! And I’m not really sure how, but I make it work. I mean, I’m so close to the poverty line I can smell the Ramen Noodles.
Enter the Adirondack chair. You may not think you know this chair, but I promise you do. Imagine a wrap around porch in a New England beach town. Imagine the chairs. You are probably seeing the glorious, the oh so comfy Adirondack chair. I love these chairs. I have a wooden one that lives in my backyard that I found in the alley 2 winters ago. It’s the most coveted at our BBQ’s. I’ve been wanting to get a few more, but the wooden ones average around $100/piece. Then it hit me: PLASTIC!!
Now back to money. Even though the plastic version is not very expensive, they are more than the $5-10 limit I usually impose on myself when exploring buying an item I don’t really need. But I so wanted another 2 for my back porch. And when I found out they had some at my local grocery store, I said screw it! Part of the reason I started this journey was to prove to myself that I’ll be okay, that I will catch myself before I fall.
So I buy the chairs and, because I’ve already spent way over what I would normally allow myself, I decide to take the bus home. Enter the unexpected risk: embarrassment.
Okay, so of course I can’t go with just the plain tan chairs. Instead I choose bright neon blue. I love the color but not exactly subtle. Which posed a problem for me while I was the waiting for the bus. I got to the corner of a very busy street in the city and just missed one. And I thought, “I just bought pretty new chairs; I’m going to use them.” So I plopped down in my bright blue chairs and proceeded to be gawked at for the next 15 minutes. Talk about breaking the social contract. Finally, this cake would not be delicious without a little icing and my walk home provided that in full. As the blog title says, I’m little. And my arms were too short to effectively lug these things home. The only way that I could carry them was on my head. So imagine it: Little tiny me walking down my street (which by the way is full of families and feels almost like a suburb) with 2 huge bright blue chairs on my head. Bring on the stares.
But now, as I lounge on my porch, I see that it was all worth it. If I close my eyes, I feel transported, as though the wind coming off the lake is an ocean breeze and the train a block over is waves crashing against the shore.