Kids these days! I commend those who actually get out and work. But they need more life experience to be my grocery checker! Or at least TRAINING from a seasoned professional life-liver.
The thing is, these kids don't pay for their own groceries. I don't for an instant believe that the 18-22 set is living on their own with a grocery store checking job. Maybe in years past it was possible. Not today, unless they have 10 roommates to offset the cost of rent/utilities/food/car/insurance, and electronic gewgaws. They don't understand that if you pay for an item, you want it in the same condition as you bought it when you get it home.
Monday after leg therapy, I stopped by Country Mart. I needed bananas, marinara sauce, and a Father's Day card for Farmer H. Three items. My checker was a young man jovially conversing with a fellow buddy young man. He turned his attention to me. He was polite and cheerful. But he didn't know squat about bagging. He put all three items in the same bag.
I don't think he was trying to save the earth by using less plastic, or save the store extra costs. I think he just glanced and thought, "Those will easily fit in one bag."
I would have offered the card to the stately elderly woman (myself, heh, heh!) to see if she wanted to carry it in her purse, lest it be bent in the main bag, or get something sticky off the bananas. Like those darn labels they want to put on each one, that regularly grab the side of the bag in transit.
As for the big can of spaghetti sauce (actual marinara was only in glass jars, which I did not want to deal with), I would have put it in a separate bag. Only because a heavy can is not a friend to a bunch of eight bananas. It tries to beat them into mush as the bag is lifted to and fro, conveyor to cart, cart to car, car to elbow to swing freely in transit to the kitchen, after being plopped on a metal chair while steps are climbed.
But no. Young Jovial Checker put everything in one bag as I was paying with my card, handed me the receipt, then resumed his jovial conversation. By the time I took that bag out of T-Hoe, the card corner had burrowed through the plastic bag. The can of sauce was on top of it, giving the card a U-shaped bend. The bananas are no doubt holding their bruises secret for a few more days.
Keep these boys in the stockroom!
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Here's my poor banana the next day, bearing the mark of the pasta sauce can!
Such a travesty! I never would have chosen a banana that looked like that in the store.
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