Saved!
It's official! I have saved one plastic bag.
As I began my search for Ken's Steakhouse Northern Italian Lite dressing (which at this point is becoming more like a divine quest) I was a little nervous - since I would only be buying one thing, it would finally be time for me to put my money where my mouth is. Would I have the strength to withstand the scornful looks and rolling eyes?
Was I ready to be "that woman with the bags"?
The quest for dressing continues but since I can't eat my salad naked I picked up a different dressing and got on line. I had my friend, who for the sake of anonymity I will call February, with me for moral support (if you call endlessly mocking me supportive), which was fortunate because I was on a line with a designated bagger.
Would I have the temerity to tell her to back off? Would I stand my ground?
Well, by the time the woman of a certain nationality which I will not name, in front of me was done, I was so pissed off that I was ready to pluck out the first eyeball that got rolled within five feet of me. The woman, let's call her Natasha, spent a good ten minutes examining her receipt, apparently not wanting to actually pay for any of her groceries. Alas, as public assistance won't pay for everything available in any given supermarket, and after much huffing and puffing she pulled out her Coach leather wallet and begrudgingly handed over $5.
Except she owed $5.45. More huffing and puffing and she forks over another dollar, all the while shaking her head at the indignity of having to pay for her foie gras, and taps her perfectly wrapped nails while she waits for her change.
By this point, I don't care if I become "that woman" because I already have. Except I'm not "that woman with the bags" I'm "that woman with the shrieking child."
Not only am I ready for a confrontation but I'm itching for.
Imagine my disappointment when I say "no bag thanks" and I get NO RESPONSE. Nothing. Not even a mini eye roll.
But at least I saved a bag. (#2 on the list of ways to save the planet.)
As I began my search for Ken's Steakhouse Northern Italian Lite dressing (which at this point is becoming more like a divine quest) I was a little nervous - since I would only be buying one thing, it would finally be time for me to put my money where my mouth is. Would I have the strength to withstand the scornful looks and rolling eyes?
Was I ready to be "that woman with the bags"?
The quest for dressing continues but since I can't eat my salad naked I picked up a different dressing and got on line. I had my friend, who for the sake of anonymity I will call February, with me for moral support (if you call endlessly mocking me supportive), which was fortunate because I was on a line with a designated bagger.
Would I have the temerity to tell her to back off? Would I stand my ground?
Well, by the time the woman of a certain nationality which I will not name, in front of me was done, I was so pissed off that I was ready to pluck out the first eyeball that got rolled within five feet of me. The woman, let's call her Natasha, spent a good ten minutes examining her receipt, apparently not wanting to actually pay for any of her groceries. Alas, as public assistance won't pay for everything available in any given supermarket, and after much huffing and puffing she pulled out her Coach leather wallet and begrudgingly handed over $5.
Except she owed $5.45. More huffing and puffing and she forks over another dollar, all the while shaking her head at the indignity of having to pay for her foie gras, and taps her perfectly wrapped nails while she waits for her change.
By this point, I don't care if I become "that woman" because I already have. Except I'm not "that woman with the bags" I'm "that woman with the shrieking child."
Not only am I ready for a confrontation but I'm itching for.
Imagine my disappointment when I say "no bag thanks" and I get NO RESPONSE. Nothing. Not even a mini eye roll.
But at least I saved a bag. (#2 on the list of ways to save the planet.)
Posted at 6:08 PM on
Friday, June 30, 2006
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