889. REI, Part Deux

One of my loyal readers wrote in to tell me why REI charges such insanely high prices.  He wrote, “For those prices, I’d expect someone from the store to be coming by the house once a week to wash, dry, and put away the clothing.”  Who knew?

This could be the answer to all my prayers, or at least the most important ones.    

I raced over to REI like I was being chased.  When I got there, I went directly to customer service.

“Excuse me, sir?” I whispered, breathless.  “I heard that you come over and wash people’s clothes for them?  That, like, it is a service included when you buy something?” 

He guffawed.  “Ha!  Who told you that?” 

“Well, I am a blogger, and, uh, one of my readers mentioned …” 

“You know we only offer that on full-price items, right?  Not sale.”  He said the word sale like it was dirty and offensive, like you might say dog poop on my shoe. 

“Oh,” I rallied, “I didn’t mean sale.”  I matched his tone on the word sale, but tried to take it up a notch, like vomit on my new suede jacket. 

“Oh, okay then.  Yes.  Of course we offer that service.  How do you think we would get away with charging such insanely high prices otherwise?  We would be out of business in two seconds.” 

I nodded enthusiastically. 

“Okay, just come back up after you find something, and we’ll make sure you are eligible for the service.  It’s called ‘R-E-Icing-on-the-cake.’”

Leave it to REI to come up with something clever like that.  “And by the way, what does REI stand for, anyway?  I heard it stood for Recreational Equipment, Inc?” 

“That is what we tell the public,” he leaned in conspiratorially.  “It actually stands for Really Expensive Items.”       

I started looking around for something I could afford.  I found some cute mittens right away and noticed they were only $48.  If that is what it took to get an REI employee over to my house to do laundry, so be it. 

“I’d like to buy these,” I chirped merrily, like someone who just won the jackpot in Vegas after only playing one dollar. 

“Those are children’s mittens,” said the clerk dismissively.  “Did you know that?” 

Ah, details.  I put the mittens back and looked for something else.  I quickly found a wool knit hat for $75. 

“I guess I’ll buy this, then,” I squeaked semi-merrily, like someone who just won the jackpot in Vegas after only playing one dollar twice. 

“Oooh, sorry, that just went on sale.” He frowned, as if I was trying to trade in counterfeit chips in Vegas after I thought I won the jackpot.  “That means R-E-Icing-on-the-cake would not be applicable in this instance.” 

Dammit.  Story of my life.  Every time I try to pay full price, someone forces me to pay less. 

I searched in vain for more full price items.  The only thing I could find was a kayak. 

“Would I be eligible with the kayak?” I whimpered. 

“No.  A kayak is not considered clothing.  In that case, we would offer you kayak cleaning service, plus we would be happy to clean whatever else is around, like, say, your entire garage.” 

I smiled and got out my credit card.  One swipe and $1400 later, I was the proud owner of a new kayak. 

I knew just where I would store it:  in the kitchen.  Then next week I plan to move it to the bathroom, and then the study, and finally, the storage room.  This new venture of mine will pay off after only four weeks.  Icing on the cake, indeed.   

MOV