Read Online Fifty Shades of Thrifty (a Parody) by N.J. Harlow - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: N.J. Harlow
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of sucrose.
I felt alive
again, smiled at the leprechaun and grabbed my cell phone to call the
assignment desk.
***
" You want to do a story on the Coupon King?" Dave the
assignment editor shook his head. The short, portly weeble who might be best
described as an unmade bed, slid his half glasses down his bulbous red nose and
peered over them at me.
"What? Why
can't I--"
"Cassie
Jenks, thrifty shopper? We don't publish science fiction at this
magazine."
"I know how to shop, Dave."
He smoothed his
black comb-over and leaned his fifty-year-old body back in his chair.
"Yes, I see you every morning come in with a five dollar cup of latte' and
a bear claw from the gas station across the street."
"I can
afford it because I save money on the necessities... by clipping coupons."
I reached into my purse, pulled out the Lucky Charms coupon and waved it at
him. "See?"
Dave shook his
head. "You feed your kids Lucky Charms?"
I took one look
at the food-stained red plaid shirt that covered his bay window, noting his
stomach could actually double as a TV tray if he sat just right. "It's
better than what you had for breakfast. Let me see..." I pointed at
various stains on his shirt. "Raspberry jelly donut, bottom-of-the-pot
coffee from the break room, hmmmm, something with red sauce... leftover
pizza?"
"Pasta from
last night. Still don't think you're the right person for this story."
Time to play
my trump card. "He's signing books at
that upscale grocery store downtown. The one with that tiramisu you can't
resist."
Dave's eyes
widened as he began to lick his lips. "Your point being?"
"A full tray
of that stuff will be waiting at the will call window if you give me this story."
Dave slowly
nodded, grabbed the press release off his desk and handed it to me.
***
The Coupon King,
real name Scott Farelli, doesn't really tell housewives anything they don't
already know. But he tells it assisted by a sculpted six-foot-two body and
sells it with electric olive green eyes and tousled black hair that always
looks as if some babe has just run her fingers through it. He'll go on and on
about double coupon day, searching for special codes on the web, and maximizing
your coupon's value by shopping the sales, but all American women watching him
turn into men, giving him the husband-tuning-out-wife bobblehead as their eyes
glaze over and they fantasize about a real-life pickup in aisle five.
I've got his
basic bio from the press release but the juicy details are found on Wikipedia , detailing the square-jawed hunk's most recent
relationships with some Hollywood notables.
All redheads.
Like me. (Of
course, those actresses didn't have to wash marshmallow out of their hair as I
did this morning.)
By the way,
despite raising two poster children for contraception I can still turn a head.
(Along with my other aforementioned skills.) Along with the red hair I'm
blessed with piercing emerald green eyes, classic high cheekbones and an
athletic five-nine body that is built for speed. I've been told I have killer
legs. Well, not told directly. I
overheard a conversation involving a teenage stock boy at Wal-Mart who prefaced
that with the phrase, "for a woman her age."
Which happens to
be thirty-five. Same as the Coupon King.
If only I'd been
a confirmed bachelorette like my slutty sister Rachel, I'd have a better shot.
As far as baggage goes, she travels with just a small carry-on.
Anyway, according
to the press release Mister Farelli will start his one-hour book signing at
two, with media avails at three.
Which means I've
got a few hours to put on my game face and dumpster dive, not necessarily in
that order.
***
Everyone knows
the Sunday paper is filled with special sections, book reviews, crossword
puzzles and entertainment stories.
It's also the
best place to find coupons.
Sadly, it's
Friday and my trash was picked up yesterday.
I knew I'd never
make an impression on the Coupon King with one fifty-cent discount on breakfast
cereal. So
I felt alive
again, smiled at the leprechaun and grabbed my cell phone to call the
assignment desk.
***
" You want to do a story on the Coupon King?" Dave the
assignment editor shook his head. The short, portly weeble who might be best
described as an unmade bed, slid his half glasses down his bulbous red nose and
peered over them at me.
"What? Why
can't I--"
"Cassie
Jenks, thrifty shopper? We don't publish science fiction at this
magazine."
"I know how to shop, Dave."
He smoothed his
black comb-over and leaned his fifty-year-old body back in his chair.
"Yes, I see you every morning come in with a five dollar cup of latte' and
a bear claw from the gas station across the street."
"I can
afford it because I save money on the necessities... by clipping coupons."
I reached into my purse, pulled out the Lucky Charms coupon and waved it at
him. "See?"
Dave shook his
head. "You feed your kids Lucky Charms?"
I took one look
at the food-stained red plaid shirt that covered his bay window, noting his
stomach could actually double as a TV tray if he sat just right. "It's
better than what you had for breakfast. Let me see..." I pointed at
various stains on his shirt. "Raspberry jelly donut, bottom-of-the-pot
coffee from the break room, hmmmm, something with red sauce... leftover
pizza?"
"Pasta from
last night. Still don't think you're the right person for this story."
Time to play
my trump card. "He's signing books at
that upscale grocery store downtown. The one with that tiramisu you can't
resist."
Dave's eyes
widened as he began to lick his lips. "Your point being?"
"A full tray
of that stuff will be waiting at the will call window if you give me this story."
Dave slowly
nodded, grabbed the press release off his desk and handed it to me.
***
The Coupon King,
real name Scott Farelli, doesn't really tell housewives anything they don't
already know. But he tells it assisted by a sculpted six-foot-two body and
sells it with electric olive green eyes and tousled black hair that always
looks as if some babe has just run her fingers through it. He'll go on and on
about double coupon day, searching for special codes on the web, and maximizing
your coupon's value by shopping the sales, but all American women watching him
turn into men, giving him the husband-tuning-out-wife bobblehead as their eyes
glaze over and they fantasize about a real-life pickup in aisle five.
I've got his
basic bio from the press release but the juicy details are found on Wikipedia , detailing the square-jawed hunk's most recent
relationships with some Hollywood notables.
All redheads.
Like me. (Of
course, those actresses didn't have to wash marshmallow out of their hair as I
did this morning.)
By the way,
despite raising two poster children for contraception I can still turn a head.
(Along with my other aforementioned skills.) Along with the red hair I'm
blessed with piercing emerald green eyes, classic high cheekbones and an
athletic five-nine body that is built for speed. I've been told I have killer
legs. Well, not told directly. I
overheard a conversation involving a teenage stock boy at Wal-Mart who prefaced
that with the phrase, "for a woman her age."
Which happens to
be thirty-five. Same as the Coupon King.
If only I'd been
a confirmed bachelorette like my slutty sister Rachel, I'd have a better shot.
As far as baggage goes, she travels with just a small carry-on.
Anyway, according
to the press release Mister Farelli will start his one-hour book signing at
two, with media avails at three.
Which means I've
got a few hours to put on my game face and dumpster dive, not necessarily in
that order.
***
Everyone knows
the Sunday paper is filled with special sections, book reviews, crossword
puzzles and entertainment stories.
It's also the
best place to find coupons.
Sadly, it's
Friday and my trash was picked up yesterday.
I knew I'd never
make an impression on the Coupon King with one fifty-cent discount on breakfast
cereal. So
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