DATE: Friday, July 18, 1997 TAG: 9707170233 SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL COLUMN: In Passing SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg LENGTH: 61 lines
Has the world gone card crazy or what?
There was a time when I had only five in my wallet. One gave me permission to drive, one allowed me to shop at the commissary. The third let me charge curtains and water heaters at Sears Roebuck, the fourth gave me permission to charge every place else (so long as the monthly total didn't exceed $200) and the fifth gave me access to all the books in the Virginia Beach Public Library.
Now I have more than 20, most of which serve no function other than to indicate that I've joined something or I've bought a bagel somewhere.
According to my wallet, I'm a card-carrying member of three Class A organizations: AAA, AARP and AAUW. One card gets me towed when I need it, one gets me discounts on hotel rooms and one designates me as a female who managed to walk away from a school of higher learning with a tassel and a sheepskin.
There's also a card in my wallet identifying me as a member of a class B organization: the Bangor Historical Society. I figure that an organization that promotes a town best known for its plastic statue of Paul Bunyon, its very large water tank and a guy who writes very scary novels needs all the support it can get. Especially from its natives, of which I am one.
So much for my memberships. What really takes up space are the ``Buy some, get some'' cards. As of today I will qualify for a free bag of bagels as soon as I buy eight more dozen. I can also get a free bagel sandwich as soon as I buy seven more (at the shop near my house) or four more (at the shop near my office).
With luck I can get a full meal. If I watch my timing, I'll be able to go across the street to the coffee shop and treat myself to a free cappuccino (after nine more at the regular price) and pick up a sundae at the yogurt shop, where I only have two more purchases to go.
Three more punches and my favorite dress shop will give me a free pair of panty hose. There's also a free video rental waiting for me at my neighborhood rent-a-flick after I pay for one more. O-o-o-ps, scratch that. There would have been a free one, but the punch card expired three months ago.
Which is more recently than my other video punch card expired. Or maybe died is a better word. The grocery store where I got that one changed its name in 1990 and closed its doors in 1995.
My car wash card is in slightly better shape. I need only to make six visits in the next five months so that I can get a seventh wash free. The chances are not good. I've been there only once since January. Of 1994.
There's what should be a better system at my neighborhood greeting card shop. They just give me a card that they run through the cash register whenever I buy something. Every three months they send me a voucher based on the number of cards I've bought and the amount I've spent on them. Then I put the vouchers in my brief case. That's where their system falls apart. I never see the vouchers again until three days after they expire.
The three grocery discount cards that I carry, I rarely see at all. When I need one to get a half-gallon of ice cream for 49 cents, it's not there. Five days later, when the weekly special is three cans of sardines for $1, I find it.
Unfortunately, I hate sardines. And I am beginning to hate discount cards as well. Still, it's hard to ignore a free cappuccino, bagel, sundae or pair of panty hose. I just wish someone would come up with a better way of giving them to me.
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