Thank You, Socially-Inept Grocery Bagger Person

A note of thanks to the 16-year-old grocery bagger at the Ingles check out line who felt the need to tell me how “twisted” he got on paint thinner the night before…in front of my children. Thank you for being a cautionary tale that I can hold up to my kids and say, “see kids, you shouldn’t huff household products.”

And to the other grocery-bagger person, the young lady who, on a separate occasion, took several minutes to explain in excruciating detail how she only drinks bottled water, not that crap from the tap. And how she’d like to buy a Brita filter for her sink, but then everyone in the family would use it, even to wash the dishes, which is just stupid, and expensive, and she can’t afford that, to buy filtered water for washing the dishes, so she’ll just keep drinking the bottled water. The carbonated stuff, not that crap spring water. Thank you. Thank you for being a brief distraction from the normal check out line chaos, where my children systematically lick every single pack of gum, magazine, and knock-off Match-Box car in the “impulse buy zone.” Thank you.

Most people would simply mumble, “great, and you?” when I ask, “how are you doing?” But not you, Socially Inept Grocery Bagger Person(s). Not you. You seize the opportunity to really connect with me, a stranger who will be out of your life as soon as you finish double bagging every single item in the cart. And thank you for that, too, the compulsive double bagging of absolutely everything. Not just the heavy items, like milk, but the light ones too. Even the four-roll of toilet paper, which weighs maybe 10 ounces and has no sharp edges. As an amateur who occasionally dabbles in bagging, I’d put the toilet paper in a single plastic bag, but not you. You’re a professional, so you double bag it, going that extra step, using up an entire dinosaur in the process. Thank you. You’re awesome. Never change.

2 thoughts on “Thank You, Socially-Inept Grocery Bagger Person

  1. If all that extra attention is bumming out out, come to the up-county and visit my Ingles. The kids there are too concerned with figuring out where the party’s at to actually talk to the customer, let alone notice that they’re putting three cans of soup on top of your loaf of bread when they bag your stuff. Our Ingleses might be only a few miles apart, but they’re worlds away.

  2. I can’t believe that people put groceries in bags for you. In Ontario, Canada, we pay extra to be handed bags by the cashier. Five cents per bag. And the looks you get if you ask for them. Holy Shit. I want an empty plastic bag not a gallon of pesticide to dump in the water supply. I now have to travel with no less than 2 plastic totes (like laundry baskets but for food) and 5 or 6 reusable bags or face being a social pariah!

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