Loyalty Cards Money Off Vouchers Have Ruined My Life! My Story, this could be you.

I’ve come to the conclusion that whoever created coffee shop loyalty cards had some amazing insight into a woman’s head. They knew something we didn’t even know ourselves, I know now though, and am slowly learning, through serious therapy I might add, to let go of some of them!!!

My key ring was dragging me down, both mentally and physically. It was the weight of cards from coffee shops/ supermarkets, and numerous other places that was adding to my stress levels!

They were taking over my life. Something very strange had started to happen. Like most women I had no problem spending money on all sorts, but weirdly I started to have a slight panicky feeling if I forgot my loyalty card in any particular shop. This meant I was missing the ever important stamp that would eventually lead to getting a free coffee. This is what those little harmless little buggers had me reduced to. Be warned ladies ....don’t let this happen to you.

Don’t even start me on those supermarket 10e off if you spend 50e vouchers .That’s a whole other story I’m just not ready to address yet! Well; now that I’ve mentioned them I may keep going.

These harmless looking bits of paper have ruined my relationship with shopping. I know it’s sad, but I quite enjoyed it. Meandering up and down the aisles in my own little world, I’d happily fill my trolley, ticking each item off on my very organised itemised list. My list would correspond with where I started off in the shop so I’d follow the same route around the store each week. [Did I tell you how I like to be organised??]

Anyway, I’d neatly place each item in my trolley in order of how I would pack my bags at the checkout. Needless to say I’d have the exact amount of shopping bags with me. [I hate having to buy extra when I don’t need them.] I also like to keep them neatly folded in the boot of my very tidy car which I like to park in the same spot every time I shop.

So here’s what happened to me when I was unfortunate enough to save a collection of those bloody tokens from the paper. I thought I was great. I neatly cut them out from my own and my friend’s newspapers, feeling nicely smug at the idea of saving money.

But that’s where it all started to go wrong. Before I even got to the supermarket I found myself in a dilemma. “Spend 50 save 10, spend 100 save 20” was going around in my usually very controlled thoughts. I was so distracted that when I arrived at the supermarket I parked haphazardly in a different space than usual, forgetting my shopping bags in the process.

Going up and down the aisles I soon had my list complete but I knew it had gone over 50e. That little voice started telling me “spend 100 save 20”. So; I back tracked around the store picking up bits and pieces mindlessly , all sense gone between what I needed and what I wanted. Getting a bit fed up I just fired anything and everything into the trolley to get the bloody job done. Eventually I reached the checkout sweating and red faced from a whopper of a hot flush that had decided to make an appearance.

Ting ting went the register. “Madam that will be 121.45e, do you need bags?” she asked in a lovely, but extremely irritating sing song voice. Even more irritating than the voice that shouts out of the express checkouts. “I’ve a feckin boot full of them” I say a bit too loudly with the sweat pouring down my face in rivers.

“Breathe Bernie Breathe” I fire all the groceries into the trolley [a tad aggressively I might add]. I’ve no choice but to buy a few bags which made me sweat even more as I rummaged for even more money to pay for them. I leave the shop, heading for my usual car parking space. “Where’s the bloody car? “Breathe Bernie breathe”.

I load my shopping into the boot which is full of bags from practically every store in Ireland.

Maybe I’ll go grab a coffee in Costa” I think to myself. Back into the store I go. “I’ll have a large skinny cappuccino with lots of chocolate please” I say, feeling a tad better, as I savour the aroma of freshly ground coffee.

“No problem madam, do you have your loyalty card?” Ahhhhhh BERNIE, BREATHE BERNIE BREATHE .

My therapist assures me that I will be okay....eventually. I’ll have to have a word with her though.

This flipping breathing malarkey is a cod.