With the advent of self check-out lines, I often find myself ringing up my own groceries. To me it’s a bit faster for a bit more work- plus I can bag my goods anyway I want.
Now I have a new reason I only want to be the only one touching my food.
On Friday I was at Giant picking up some fresh mint for the drinks I will be preparing this weekend. I knew things were going to be interesting when she asked, “what are you playing with?”
I replied, “Oh, this is just my cell phone, I’m typing out a text message.” I display my Zach Morris tech brick to show her the keyboard.
“Oh I don’t have a cell phone, I don’t know how those things work,” she replied.
As she scans the package of mint, it bursts open and some of it falls onto the belt. She scrambles to put it back into the package, using her money handling, germ infested hands.
The bagger, a hispanic man, looked curiously as she tainted my goods.
“Oh you don’t know what this is? It’s mint- here smell it,” offers the checkout lady/food molester.
They both proceed to sniff the package.
I’m looking at the scene in awe that this lady actually thinks I’m going to take that home and use it.
“Hmm I better go get another package,” I said as I interrupted the culinary lesson.
“What? The belt is clean, we clean it every day,” the lady retorts, “but if you want to go ahead and get another package.”
I did get another package, and made sure she didn’t touch it.
Totally gross.
Ok time to run out to the beach.
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