Every few days I pop over to Trader Joe’s to pick up a few items.  They always have fun music pumping in the parking lot so I often sing and dance my way into the store.  Last week, I met a yogi swathed in tattoos who showed me his, “tree pose” while waiting in line.  By golly, he even looked like a tree!

I carry a small, cloth bag over my shoulder, which I wash often.  It stays on my body and doesn’t touch anything–not even a counter.  I don’t get a cart because it’s unnecessary nor do I get one of those red plastic things with the flimsy, wiry handles.  They’re awkward to carry, hard on my bad shoulder and difficult to disinfect.  Plus, as you’ll note above, they leave them sitting on the ground!! 

Last time I went, I put my three items IN the bag but at the counter they said I would have to hand-carry them from now on because they, ‘don’t know where my bag has been.’  What?  Like they know where their thousands of customers hands have been?  

So, last week, I hand-carried a milk, jar of pickles and carton of blueberries to the check stand.  After ringing them up the cashier asked, “Would you like paper or plastic?”  “Neither,” I replied, “If you just slide them down towards me, I’ll put them in my little bag here.”  She looked at me as if I had just asked her to carve up her firstborn for Thanksgiving.

“No,” she declared!  “You’ll have to go get a handcart and put them in.  Then carry them outside where you can repack them in your bag.”   “Are you insane?” I asked.  “In what universe does that make ANY intelligent sense?”  Yes, that was strong language but every now and then, one must take a stand against utter stupidity.  Reluctantly, she pushed my items towards me. 

Yesterday, I shopped at Sprouts.  As I left, the cashier said, “Thank you so much for bringing in your own bag!”  Indeed.  Any wonder we’re all confused?