By Robert Dean
Carter County Times
Ever see someone on a bench ripping a cigarette and just know they’re going through it? That’s all of us now. One sulk and a Marlboro Red away from telling the boss, the landlord, and the bank manager what life’s like in the trenches. Most of us are one, maybe two paychecks from asking for change on the corner.
I dropped eighty-seven bucks at the Dollar Tree last week. The Dollar Tree. When you’re spending that kind of cash in a place that smells like cat food, where Diane the clerk with one good eye rings you up, you know we’re having a bad go.
I needed cleaning supplies and snacks for my little gremlin kids who devour everything I bring into the home. Things that used to be a dollar are now $1.50 or even $2.00, and I understand that it’s still cheap, but it’s where we’re at that I have a pretty decent life, pounding out the thoughts onto paper as a writer. If I’m shopping in the discount bin, what about the gal making $14 an hour to endure the misery of trying to survive in a world that stomps on your soul with baseball cleats on?
Maybe your Diane has been ringing up desperate purchases for years. A lot of us have had to look at the bank account and give the sign of the cross, trying to make a meal out of almost nothing. That’s a universal experience, no matter your party affiliation, creed, or color – a struggle meal is universal.
There’s a certain feeling of trepidation knowing that what you’re ringing up is going to kill your wallet, especially knowing that you’ve got more stops to make. As the cashier just keeps the day moving, you’re counting those beeps, hoping the sale doesn’t go beyond your magic number of what you don’t want to spend. Diane and I – we’re both working, both trying, both ending up in the same, fluorescent-lit boat. She’s on one side of the counter, I’m on the other, but we’re playing the same rigged game.
Paychecks just ain’t what they used to be. Filling up the gas tank feels like buying a new television; it’s become a major purchase. Feeding the family at literally any place to grab a meal will cost around $40 – there’s not much Extra Value in that. Gas averaged $2.50 a gallon in 2019 and hit $3.30 in 2024, while a Big Mac jumped from $4.39 to $5.29 over the same stretch – both essentials that used to feel routine now make you wince at the register.
I yearn for the day when I can live my life and swipe my card and feel ok that there’s plenty in there, that maybe I don’t need to stop for that coffee, or I shouldn’t buy the new pair of Dickies I’ve been putting off for a few weeks. What do I go to work for if I can’t even enjoy the life I have? I know I’m not alone in how I feel.
What I’ve learned is simple: we all want the same things. Good schools for our kids. A solid dinner. A little time with friends. A couple of hours without the financial grim reaper breathing down our necks. Diane cuts me a fair deal because she’s in the same boat. Struggle has no operating hours. Does the American Dream cost a buck fifty? Probably not these days. But you can at least grab a can of beans.
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