I don’t care that you think I’m crazy

You know how I feel about routine. You’ve heard me laud flexibility. Today’s lesson in You and Money … But Better—not caring what other people think.

I was at the grocery store earlier today and two of the items rang up higher than their posted prices. If my husband is reading this, the hairs on the back of his neck are standing straight up right now. Danger, Will Robinson! It is quite possible that on the list of things that bug the crap out of me—admittedly, a rather long list—this could be #3 … maybe #2. Right behind people who still believe in the Dinner Fairy and those neighbors who confuse me with the other Asian woman who lives in town. In all cases, please—try harder.

Mischarging—nay, overcharging!—used to happen with some regularity at a supermarket around the corner from where we used to live in New York City. As a rule, I would point out the mistakes to the staff and ask them to adjust even though the difference was worth my time in exactly zero of the instances, 2008 food budget notwithstanding. I’d rail about it to the hubs afterwards, righteously indignant about the wrong done not just to me, but also to our less-well-off neighbors, many of whom relied on food stamps. I really did half-expect to be banned from the store at some point.

It wasn’t just a pocketbook issue (see worth my time above). The scanning errors increased the time and mental load involved with shopping. Instead of focusing solely on what produce was fresh or how much bread we needed, I was now also wondering, Am I being taken advantage of? The prices mattered. This is the same reason I steer clear of market prices on restaurant menus. Did the price of oysters really go up? Or did you just get a larger-than-expected utility bill? It’s also why I’m drawn to this:

Sure, it may ring up incorrectly, too, but at least I don’t have to go all the way back to the shelf and take a picture of the displayed price.

Lest you think I am alone in my gripe, New York City’s Department of Consumer Affairs once proposed a Grocery Shoppers Have Overcharge Protection (Grocery SHOP) Act—I swear I did not make up the name—a law that would have required delinquent supermarkets to pay a “super” refund of 10 times the amount of any overcharge. The state of Michigan has a similar “scanner law” that goes one step further. There, if an item’s scanned price rings up differently than the posted price, not only is a store required to refund you the overcharge and a bonus of 10 times the difference, but if it refuses to do so within two days, it can also be on the hook for an additional $250. Go Blue, indeed.

Standing there at the self-checkout kiosk, I had a choice to make. Ignore the variance and get on with my day (aka turn into a completely different person) or press the Call Attendant button on the screen. Did I mention the total overcharge was 30 cents? At times like this, I really, really wish I could take a page from Elsa’s book and just let it go. What can I say? I’m doing a public service. Also, old habits die hard.

The employee assigned to self checkout did a passable job keeping a neutral face as she contemplated my request, mentally rolling her eyes and counting down the days until college graduation. I smiled. Judge me if you like, but trust me, if I can send in leftover candy still in their Halloween treat bags for today’s Valentine’s Day party at my four-year-old’s preschool, I will ask you to manually adjust the price of the butter.