Update: I went to see the nearby Ikea shelf and asked the seller for a discount. He agreed. So far, no Craigslister since July 1 has turned down my request for $5 off -- whether the asking price is $40 or $20. Interesting...
Am I shooting too low?My question today was for a project that's still just a twinkle in my eye. I have decided to register and host a few domains for future uses, and I came across a company with some good specials now. One promo code informed me, "Congratulations, you are getting our best rate possible!" (Something like that.) But I wasn't buying it. What if there was something better, more up to date? So I called their agent and asked her to price out the total with each of the three codes I had found.
Turns out, the promo that promises the best rate is only for 20% off, for a total of $119. I also had a different code, for 50% off, which brought the total to $71.
Eff-yeah!!!!*
Gained: $48.
Earlier, I tried signing up for a new promo at the bank. The flyer, "Earn $50 blah blah blah," screamed New Customers Only, but it was worth a try. "Can I sign up for this?" I asked the teller. "Not if you already have an account," she replied. No prob. (But if you have some cash to spare, gentle reader, and access to Bank of America, you can always sign up, earn your perk and close out! Here's the link.)
Gained II: Nothing lost, nothing gained.
*I'm not usually this demure. Ask around, and you'll find out that this percussive word and I became fast friends at the age of 4 (my age -- the word was at least 700 years old that year). One day, my neerdowell buddy -- which is to say, my absolutely amazing and inspiring troublemaker of a friend -- Stuart, taught me to play a game.
"I'm going to whisper something in your year, and then you yell it at the top of your lungs, OK?"I agreed.
"Fuck," he whispered.
I'd never heard it before. I figured I'd get in trouble if Stuart was involved, but I wanted to do it anyway. "FUCK!"
"Do it again!"
"FuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucK!"
"Louder!"
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-- Tata?"
My dad had bolted over. He sent Stuart away, spanked me, and shut me in my room.
These days, every time I use swear words on this site, my dad calls and berates me for being a poorly mannered young lass -- so I'm holding off. I get his point. Tis not ladylike.
And yet...
Don't you love how getting all meta lets you get away with stuff?
And doesn't parental wrath have its charms, when you're old enough to appreciate it?
Eff yeah.
