Beside me the young man stands in black pants and crisp red shirt with the store logo printed on his sleeve. I ask, "What makes the one for three hundred dollars better than the one for a hundred eighty?"

"Uh... the one for two ninety-nine..." "Which one," I interrupt? He points to the price tag. "Two ninety-nine-ninety-nine," he says."

"And the difference between two ninety-nine-ninety-nine and three hundred is...?" I wait. He stares dumbly at the price tag. "A penny," I say.

"Yes," he says, as if a little bulb is coming aglow over his head."

"So, this one is three hundred dollars less one penny."

"Yeah."

"So, for the sake of a penny let's just call this one three hundred dollars OK?"

"Yeah."

Later Diana comes home with her arms full. "Pork was on sale," she says, "two dollars a pound."

I find and hold her eyes until... "Three," she says. I release her gaze. She sighs tolerantly.

I'm fanatic about the old 'ninety-nine'. Whenever I shop, I round up. I see 'four something' ... I make it 'five'. Hell, once the tax is in it'll be closer to 'six' anyway. To me, charging $2.99 instead of $3 is disrespect, pure and simple. It plays upon our apperception, i. e. the way we naturally interpret what we see. $2.99 is written on our retina but we see $2. The store wants you to think it's a dollar cheaper. It's a little hoodwink, a little legal cheat.

I think it's a crappy way to treat a customer. I don't care how universal the practice is. We didn't have 'ninety-nines' when I was growing up. I seem to remember it came in with the advent of the supermarket and spread like a virus infecting stores with epidemic speed.

Around here, in smaller family-owned shops that haven't been swallowed up by the chains I searched for immunities to the 'ninety-nine' disease.

There were a few. The Emporium on Hwy 10 south of Shelburne will sell you a lovely set of old rattan chairs for $150 instead of $149.99. At Cobwebs & Caviar, the quilting shop across the street, you can find the

occasional $6 or $60. But even in those stores you'll mostly see your $5.99s and $59.99s.

In the ubiquitous chain stores of course every price tag sports the old 'ninety-nine' or its cousin, the 'forty-nine'.

Here at The Second Fiddle price tags are rounded - $5, $10, $54 - and the tax is included so what you see is what you pay. What a concept! The pennies in the cash drawer are getting moldy.

I'm going to wipe them off and put a jar of them at the front door. If you don't like $2, if you're addicted to the old 'ninety-nine', if it'll make you feel better - put a shiny penny in your pocket.

Then the book you buy for two bucks will only cost you one-ninety-nine. eric@ericnagler.com