Something happens when a bunch of Mormon women get together. And I don't mean salivating over werewolves.
Prices, baby. It's all about prices.
"Clementines at Frys are only 2.49 a bag!"
"No way. Bashas is 3.45."
"Don't forget milk is on sale at Costco. 1.89. Limit four."
"And I'm on my way to Jo-Ann's - garland is 1.99 for 9 feet!"
I have no idea if the prices I just quoted are anywhere near the truth; I have not a clue what things cost.
This female ability to retain the prices of hundreds of items at a moment's recall astounds me. It's like some exclusive club that I should belong to, but instead am left pressing my face against the window, drooling.
I have my grocery list. I buy what's on my list. If there's a big sale sticker, I'm happy. But I couldn't tell you the price of the mint extract I just bought. Forty-five minutes ago.
On the other hand, my gray matter is very good at recalling completely useless information. Like all the lyrics to BNL's "One Week." Or who gave us that crystal bowl for our wedding. Or the name of the woman the Greek goddess Athena turned into a spider.
Do you think I could work it in my next price conversation?
"Strawberries for two bucks at Frys - today only."
I'm all about value.
"Do you like broccoli? On sale for $2.50 for three pounds."
I could put it in this beautiful bowl I got from the Kelicheivkis.
"I'm heading to the Farmer's Market - only 5 bucks for a bushel of peaches."
I'll go as soon as I kill this last arachnid - named for Arachne, the woman-turned-spider who thought she was better than Athena at weaving.
Nope. Probably not.