Silver Necklace

Tonight I went to the final day of Sears going out of business sale. The roads were icy in the morning so I didn't get there until about 4 PM (with the idea that they would be closed at 5 PM--but in the end, they stayed open until pretty much everything was gone, at about 6 PM).

On Friday night we had stopped and saw that they still had nice coats, a pergola, electric lawn mowers and snow throwers, etc. and I had meant to return just to get a coat. But when I arrived just before closing time I found that about all the shelves had been stripped clean, save for a bit of overstock (toilet seat covers but no coordinating rugs, pillow cases but no sheets, lamp bases but no shades, single panels of curtains in each color, some clothes, and some fine jewelry--all in all, lots of odds and ends.)

I spent an hour carefully picking out a pair of pants, a package of pantyhose, and two curtain panels. I paid and was surprised at the value--it totaled something like $12. As I was walking out, I thought I might as well check out the jewelry--there was a big crowd of people in the area. I overheard an employee purchasing a ring for $5 and she was stunned by the price so I started looking more closely. It was all 97% off plus an additional 80% off. I picked out four necklaces--a chain of 24k gold overlaying sterling silver for myself and some gifts for relatives and the total came to $20. One of the necklaces sticker prices was $279 (a citrine cross) and the other three ranged from $79 to $124. Now, I suspect that these stickers were extremely inflated so that they could encourage people to buy at the sale price of 80% off, but in the final moments when they switched to 97% + 80% off people really started getting some good deals. Solid gold rings were selling for $20. Several men were standing around buying 10 or 20 ruby and emerald rings. I imagined them as serial online daters (as described recently in The Atlantic article "A Million First Dates"), each night giving a different date an impressive ring.  One man was taking everything he could get his hands on. He came up behind me while I waited for an employee to get a key and politely asked which one I was waiting for. When I pointed out the cross he said, good, I wanted the other two.

Meanwhile they announced overhead that you could have everything that fit in a cart for $100 (excluding fine jewels and appliances). While I waited in line to pay for my necklaces every single piece of jewelry got purchased--the man I mentioned before simply said "I'll take whatever's left." I talked to him a little more and he said "this is my livelihood." But he also said something about giving the jewelry to his wife. Then they announced overhead "everything you can fit in a cart, excluding jewelry for $25."  By the time I'd finished paying, 4 or 5 people had been smart enough to load up carts with everything that was left (smart if they'll be able to use or sell it all).  They were waiting in line at the other cash register and I went over to take the photos I've attached here.

At that point I spotted a suede care kit and thought I might ask someone to add it to their cartload for me.  But then I imagined waiting for them to checkout and decided it wasn't worth the time and weirdness of asking anyone.  As I started walking out I noticed that the man I'd been talking to before at the jewelry counter was about to check out.  I thought if he was doing the $25 cart load deal it might be worth waiting.  I went up to him and asked if he was getting it all for $25 and he said "no, some of this stuff isn't on that deal, like this," he said, indicating a box.  I don't know what made me ask to see what was in the box but I did, and he opened it and showed me a cross that was exactly like the one I'd purchased.  I mentioned how weird it was and opened my bag to compare; that's when I noticed a great big hole in the bottom of my bag.  "Hey, that is my cross!" I exclaimed.  He asked to see my receipt.  A woman that worked there said, "Oh, yeah, I just found that on the floor."  The man handed it back to me a bit regretfully.

So via some strange play of synchronicity I got my jewelry back before I even had time to wonder that I'd lost it or worry about where it may have ended up.

And...I'm glad a synchronicity was involved in this because I really wanted to write about the experience anyway.  America is a strange country...capitalism and consumerism have a lot of odd sides to them--sharp corners and edges in some regards (sweat shops and pollution as costs of producing a lot of worthless junk) and a squishy underbelly too (like last ditch sales that seem to acknowledge that yes, it really is just worthless junk).  For example, I'm not sure how I feel about the gold rings I had the chance to buy, but didn't.  I very practically decided not to get them because they didn't fit on my fingers.  But of course, it was gold and could have been melted down.  So I am alternately kicking myself and breathing a sigh of relief that I don't have to wallow in buyer's remorse and that I'm not looking for a place for 10 toilet seat covers (my husband suggested without a hint of laughter in his voice that the purchaser could give them out as Christmas gifts next year--which cracks me up.)

I really have trouble believing that any of that jewelry was so "fine."  I wonder a bit who had the last laugh--if it was really worth much, why didn't they haul it over to the other Sears across town that's not closing?  But then I go back and think about all the folks that struck gold tonight.  In the end, I know that if I give in to such deals, I'll end up a hoarder (there will always be another incredible sale), and for that reason, I'm glad I didn't go crazy tonight.  I've still got a few doctor's bills piled up anyway...