accidental feminist

First of all, let it be known that I am not an active environmentalist. I don’t compost; I don’t go out of my way to recycle the glass that my landlord refuses to put in our regular recycling; I don’t take fast showers. But I am an environmental pragmatist. If aiding the environment is made into an economically beneficial option (and here I use “economically in a broad sense of exchange, and not just monetarily), then I will do it. It’s why I sent the cover of my recent Newsweek, filled with Target bags, to Tercycle. And it seems I am not alone, since it is clear that the reusable shopping bag has recently reached a tipping point. And I am on the bandwagon.

(Sit tight; that was just the prologue…)

So I go shopping at the big mega-Jewel on Howard tonight, since I have to fill several prescriptions there. I usually shop at the much smaller but well-stocked Dominick’s on Green Bay, but, things as they are…

So I get to the check out and proudly lay my reusable shopping bags on the conveyor belt. Things seem to be going fine, although the bagger is skimping on the bag-filling a bit. I reach over to help her load some light cereal boxes on top of the meat. Now, I’m feeling a little micro-managey at this point, so I back off. What happens next I would not believe but that I witnessed it myself. After half filling two of my three enormous bags, she leaves the third next to her and begins double plastic bagging the rest of the items. She used an entire bag for one matza box. Another for a package of chicken. And the kicker, she bags my freaking 12 roll toilet paper package. That thing barely even fits in a bag.

At this point, dear reader, I assume you are asking: Why would this dumb-shit bagger (and I’m not saying all of them are) use even more plastic bags than is normal for a person who has brought her own reusable bags? Alas, I cannot answer this question; but I can finish my epic tale…

Now I notice the unused bag, and remark as such to my foolish bagger. She smiles a sheepish grin, opens the bag, and proceeds to place the already half-filled plastic bags into my bag. I am dumbstuck, nay, awestruck, at her complete obliviousness. Rather than trying to stop her, I wait patiently until she is done, then move myself and my cart to the side, dump all of the contents of the plastic bags into my bag, and shove all of the plastic bags into the bagging station of the register next to mine. “Take your god damn bags!” I cry in my head. Then I turn and smile at the bagger, thank her, and head out into the cool night air.