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Thursday, December 16, 2004

If You Must, Call Me An Old Bag

I’ve been consciously trying to reuse old bags and not accept bags if I don’t need them. I mean, do I really need a single item in a bag to walk to the car with? And trust me, you all know how NOT a hippie I am – and I’m really wasteful about food, so this is no public service announcement about conservation. Wasting bags in particular just really bugs me. I do pretty well at remembering to bring old bags to the grocery store, but I do forget occasionally. I was at Albertson’s buying a bunch of stuff for a work breakfast, including a BAG of oranges. When I told the checkout girl I didn’t want a bag for the oranges as they were already in one, she scowled at me. She was also putting, like, two items in one bag. I asked her if she could consolidate some of the items so I would have less bags. She responded by dumping a bunch of heavy stuff on top of my apples, while giving me a look that clearly said…don’t want my bag, bee-yatch? well, enjoy your bruised fuckin’ apples, commie! Then the bagger came and desperately tried to put my oranges in a bag! Why, God, why? Is not wasting bag un-American? Are my terrorist colors showing through?

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