Today we went out for ice cream to celebrate our daughter's birthday. Franklin Fountain in Philly is a popular spot and the line snaked around the corner. But it was pleasant to chat, and by the time the eight of us made it to the server I did not even preview the price. Whatever it was, it was worth it. Turns out each cone cost more than a
carton of ice cream at Trader Joe's but no matter. It was a birthday and frugality was not the driving force. I had black raspberry, by the way. Delicious.
When people buy a car, I am amused that a difference of one or two hundred dollars is often not worth quibbling about. House closings too, can waffle by several thousand bucks, and people act as if it is pocket change. Yet in a different scenario, such a discrepancy would be
unacceptable.
"Eight ice cream cones? That will be four hundred and twelve dollars."
Although John and I did not spend much on our wedding, maybe five hundred tops including the honeymoon. I sewed our clothes, my sisters made the cakes, my aunt did the flowers and a friend lent us a cabin in the mountains. But many people spend thousands. Tens of thousands. If the caterer pads the invoice by a few grand, the father of the bride may not
even check the math. He just writes a check.
One time I was at a store behind a person who was arguing about her bill. The cashier seemed frazzled.
"Yes, ma'm your coupon is for twenty per cent. The register only took off fifteen. I am sorry, I will give you the difference." She opened the drawer and counted out twenty three cents. The customer huffed and walked out with a satisfied smirk.
The tolerance
for error varies widely in regard to the situation.
Recently I was waiting at a stop light and started getting antsy. I decided to employ a five per cent rule. If the amount of time I am waiting is less than five per cent of the time we will spend at the event, forget it. The play lasts two hours, so if I sit in an idling car for ninety seconds, no problem. Not worth mentioning. If I am at the airport being held up for a three hour delay, and the trip I am
embarking on is for ten days, forget it.
My aunt told me that her mother was engaged for five years, because that was how long it took to embroider her Gibson Girl gown. I know she believes in the eternity of marriage, so apparently five years felt like an acceptable wait.
