“What are you doing?” asked the student as I slowly ambled through the produce section of the supermarket.

“Looking for hot bargains,” I said.

“Like hot apple juice? Or does ‘hot’ mean something stolen?”

“Not stolen!” I replied. “A hot bargain – a shrewd buyer’s purchase for a great low price.”

To fully understand, we needed Grandpa’s remembrances of the Great Depression.

“When I was in school,” said Grandpa, “my shoes had holes in the bottom. I stuck cardboard inside to keep my feet dry.”

Hard to imagine. Perhaps Grandpa exaggerated. He always looked dapper when he wasn’t wearing his work coveralls.

In time, the whole family evolved into bargain-hunting mode. Family dinners provided a chance to share our successes.

Grandpa: “I was in the men’s store. Phil, the owner, offered me a discount on a sports jacket and a pair of leather loafers — he’s clearing out last season’s stock.”

Grandma: “Linens — seconds with flaws you can’t see. Sheets, pillowcases, towels, and a wool blanket. Got them all for half-price in the department store basement.”

Me: “A store closing out the children’s shoe department. The manager didn’t want to fuss selling each pair of shoes. He loaded his inventory into our vehicle. We had shoes for children to grow into for years.”

The family was thrifty but not stingy. Visitors with kids were invited to sort through the shoeboxes for free shoes.

For bargain hunters, Washington’s birthday sales ranked high. We lived in Washington. In Oregon, business as usual — no time off.  Oregon department stores offered leader items that drew Washington shoppers from schools and work sites that celebrated the day off.

My siblings spread out the sale ads and we plotted our plan of attack. Planned targets — not impulse buying.

Early on Washington’s birthday, crowds jostled at the locked department store doors.  Our strategy — be the first inside, find the sale items, and grab the sales tag.  One priority — the $5 metal office desk.  Fourth floor. Skip the crowded elevator. Race up the stairs.

We nabbed the desk.

Dad traded the desk to a business school for typing lessons for me.

Through the years we accumulated bargains — a trunk full of fabric, garden plants, a secondhand greenhouse for Mom, boxes of tools for Dad. Not all bargains successful.

My bargain wool school coat — cream-colored with dots of red thread.

Schoolkids teased: “She’s wearing a measles coat!”

I headed to school without a coat.

Mom: “Put on your coat — it’s cold.”

Solution: Wear coat when leaving home. A block from home — stuff coat in grocery sack. Coatless at school. Returning home, a block from home pull on coat.

As an adult, my greatest find — free airline tickets.

I’m at the airport heading home after visiting a couple and new baby.

Sweet words over a loudspeaker. “We’ve overbooked. Anyone willing to take a bump …”

A scramble to the ticket desk. I was in no rush to return home.

A free ticket to Alaska, Mexico or Canada. What a boost to my VLB (very low budget) travel plan.  And a second bump.

Two bumps in one day, not a bad bargain.

Another month, another visit to a couple with a baby.

“Attention passengers. We’ve overbooked …”

I grabbed my carry-on, and did a casual rush to the counter. Another passenger spotted me and glared as he, too, did a casual rush to the counter. The ticket agent grabbed my ticket first.

In all, I ended up with five free tickets. One drawback — for some reason popular destinations were always full. Couple times the destination featured uniformed, major gun-toting guys, presumably to keep tourists safe.

Back at the grocery store with the student.

“May I help you?”  the produce clerk asks.

“Looking for a hot bargain.”

“That box of apples — too ripe,” says the student.

I load the apples into the car and smile.

“Applesauce and apple pie!”

Jean Ann Moultrie still keeps her eyes peeled for a hot bargain, wherever it may lurk.