Busy, busy, work, work. The days blend together now, everything needs to be done all at once.
Today I pedaled down to the grocery store with my husband on our Schwinn Twin for meat and grog. And, oh yeah, those chocolate covered marshmallow bunnies. Dammit I love the holidays.
I was just telling my husband about my latest fantasy job – candy tester for Mars Corporation – when I was confronted with Ann Schwab. Sheesh what a sour puss that woman is. Took the air right out of my cloud, there went my candy tester job. Along with a guaranteed health insurance policy and a profit-sharing plan. And crimony the free candy!
I see Ann at Safeway alot, heck, it’s right across the street from her apartment, or I’d think she was stalking me. That’s just sarcasm, of course – the look on her face always says, “Oh, shit, you again.” Pretty obvious she wouldn’t get her kicks snooping me out. We just have the same work day, the same eating schedule, the same last minute shopping habits.
One habit I’ve gotten down fairly good is reusable bags. I been carrying reusable sacks for years, and I had to keep reminding myself. No, I never turned around in the parking lot to drive home for my sacks, I never even walked back out to my car. I’ve never purchased bags unless I’ve wanted that particular bag. I have even purposely left my bags at home to get plastic bags, so useful around the house. But, I would say, I carry my groceries out in a reusable sack over 50 percent of the time. I have a couple that I like particularly for their square bottoms and long handles, suitable for carrying as a knapsack. They also fit real handy into a bike basket next to a six pack of Sierra Nevada.
I notice Safeway has followed suit with Raley’s and put a sign on their entrance reminding customers of their reusable bags. Good, I really think that stuff works. Reusable bags are logical for a lot of goods, and I think most people would agree we should cut waste of all kinds. It’s simple – bags have always added to the cost of our groceries, they were never “free”. So sure, providing sanitary, durable reusable bags for a reasonable cost and then putting them out there, reminding people, sure, that’s great. Like subliminal advertising, it gets into people’s heads, and more of them will eventually imprint it and start practicing it. When it’s appropriate and convenient for them.
But, legislate behavior? No. That crosses my thin blue line, between where I’ll be reasonable and where I’ll start sticking my tongue out and mimicking everything you say. The bag ban has always insulted me. It’s not the sentiment that should be behind it, it’s the hypocrisy that shows like a an old yellow slip.
I don’t know, maybe Ann had one of those Neat-O! Chico bags in her purse, sure, that’s what. Cause I never see a sack hanging over her shoulder or off her back or even crumpled in her hand. It must be a Chico bag, all tidily cinched up in it’s own teeny sack, hidden in her purse, that’s the thing, right. I never have the nerve to follow her, watch her purchase her goods, and then see, once and for all, does she use a cloth, nylon or other reusable sack? Or is she a hypocrite? I never have the nerve, I tell myself, this woman should not be bothered in the grocery store! geeshy sakes Girl, have some class! I stare ahead, I sing “La, la, la” in my head while pattering some inane BS at my husband, and I walk on by. I wish I could say, “Hi Ann,” but I don’t have any sincere feeling of goodwill toward the woman, I can’t fake good will. So, I just shut up and pretend she’s any other person in the crowd.
Well, tonight, after I got home and unloaded my goods, I realized, she bothers me in the store. What do you call this dang bag ban? It specifically targets grocery stores, like, can you set the limbo pole any lower Honey? How many people can avoid the grocery store? Any other store can use whatever horrific bag they want – tear down a forest, pulp it into bags, throw them at customers two thick, pile them 100 feet high in the land fill – hey, put a Post It note on the top for the archaeologist who digs it out of Tampon Mountain – “We really didn’t mean it to happen this way…”
Oh well, I will try to take the high road. At least through Easter, cause the high road leads into the candy section.