This Town, like many other municipalities in This Particular Part of the Country, has a grocery bag law in effect. In accordance with this law, we're no longer allowed to offer plastic grocery bags for customers to carry their stuff out in. We do have paper bags; however, the law requires us to charge 5 cents for each bag. (This isn't a tax, mind you; we get to keep the money from the bag charges, so it's a little bit of extra revenue for us.) The idea is to encourage people to buy reusable bags, so that they'll save money in the long run while reducing the amount of waste that winds up in the landfills.
At most stores, this is simple; the cashier rings up your stuff, the bagger bags it up with your bags or with paper bags, and the cashier adds the fee onto your total. Here at the Store, however, we don't have baggers; you bag your own groceries here. The bags are in a cubby at the end of the checkstand, and at the end of the transaction, the cashier has to ask how many bags you need so s/he can charge you accordingly.
And even though a customer may be spending $70 on energy drinks, or buying 20 pounds of fresh pork, or purchasing enough stuff to fill the back of their SUV just in case a zombie uprising happens tomorrow, they balk at the notion of having to pay five cents - an amount of currency which can buy you (checks notes) absolutely nothing whatsoever in this day and age - in exchange for the ability to carry several items at once without dropping them all over the place.
I see people ask for two bags when they've got about $200 worth of stuff. I see people decline bags at all when they've got $300 worth of stuff. I've seen people tell me they don't need any bags when they've already used three.
This incident from yesterday, however, has to take the cake.
While I'm in a checkstand during a rush, I ring up a young couple who are buying about $100 worth of stuff. The man is bagging up the stuff and has used two bags, while the woman is getting ready to pay. I ask if they need bags, and the woman says they have EBT. (If you're paying with EBT or WIC, then you're exempt from the bag charge.) I say that's OK and I give her the total... and she puts her debit card into the chip reader. I tell her that if she's using EBT she needs to run that first. She says she's not using EBT, she just has it. I tell her that if she's not paying with EBT, she needs to pay for her bags.
This, as it turns out, is unacceptable.
She starts telling me about how usually she just says she has EBT and doesn't have to pay for her bags. (That's not how it works at all, for the record, and we can actually get fined by This Town if we get stung and fail to properly charge for bags.) I tell her so. She says that she'll pay one cent on her EBT so she doesn't have to pay for the bags. That's gaming the system, but at this point I just wanna get the line moving, so I tell her that's OK.
She pulls out her wallet and roots through it. And roots. And roots. And roots. And can't find her card. So she asks the man to pull out his wallet, and she starts rooting through it, and still can't find her card.
At this moment I realize that this is all a lot of theater - she's putting on a show of looking for a card that doesn't exist, in the hopes that I'll give and waive the bag charge so that she can save nine cents. (I should mention at this point that as she's rifling through his wallet I can see several monetary notes of some description, and at one point a quarter falls out.)
I have two options at this point. I can play along and give her the bags for free. Or I can continue to let her make a fool of herself, pretending to look for a nonexistent card, so she can save an amount of cash that will buy her (checks notes) still absolutely nothing in this day and age, and let the people in line behind her grow increasingly agitated at her.
I choose the latter. (On the interior, it's what I'm supposed to do as a good supervisor and as a role model to the crew. On the exterior, I'm doing my best not to grin like a fool.)
Eventually, she decides that her card must be in the car and tells her boyfriend to go outside and look for it. Even he's had enough at this point and tells her to just pay for the bags. She loudly proclaims "I'm NOT paying for bags!" She says they're not using any bags. He says he's already bagged the stuff and he's not taking it out. Eventually, he reaches into his pocket and hands her a dime.
Me: So two bags, then?
Her: Yes, fine. (to her boyfriend) WE'RE BAD VEGANS!
Good God, lady. I don't even understand why people get so stingy about such a trivial sum in the first place. To go to this length and inconvenience these many people in order to avoid paying (checks notes) what I make in approximately ten seconds on the clock just boggles the mind. The "bad vegans" part even more so - it was perfectly OK for you to consume two paper bags when they were free, but you're harming the Earth if you have to pay for them?
I hope no one tells you about the origins of the liquid you pumped into your car so you could drive here.
Bonus WTF
Later that same day I was covering the customer service counter so the CS clerk could take their lunch when the phone rang.
The caller ID read as follows: "FIRST GOD".
With some trepidation I answered with the standard greeting.
Silence.
I repeated the greeting.
I heard some indistinguishable, barely audible conversation between two people.
Then the line disconnected.
They do not call back.
Did I just get butt-dialed by the LORD? Is this some sort of sign? Should I be building an ark or something? I mean, it has been raining lately, but that happens every September in This Particular Part of the Country.
At most stores, this is simple; the cashier rings up your stuff, the bagger bags it up with your bags or with paper bags, and the cashier adds the fee onto your total. Here at the Store, however, we don't have baggers; you bag your own groceries here. The bags are in a cubby at the end of the checkstand, and at the end of the transaction, the cashier has to ask how many bags you need so s/he can charge you accordingly.
And even though a customer may be spending $70 on energy drinks, or buying 20 pounds of fresh pork, or purchasing enough stuff to fill the back of their SUV just in case a zombie uprising happens tomorrow, they balk at the notion of having to pay five cents - an amount of currency which can buy you (checks notes) absolutely nothing whatsoever in this day and age - in exchange for the ability to carry several items at once without dropping them all over the place.
I see people ask for two bags when they've got about $200 worth of stuff. I see people decline bags at all when they've got $300 worth of stuff. I've seen people tell me they don't need any bags when they've already used three.
This incident from yesterday, however, has to take the cake.
While I'm in a checkstand during a rush, I ring up a young couple who are buying about $100 worth of stuff. The man is bagging up the stuff and has used two bags, while the woman is getting ready to pay. I ask if they need bags, and the woman says they have EBT. (If you're paying with EBT or WIC, then you're exempt from the bag charge.) I say that's OK and I give her the total... and she puts her debit card into the chip reader. I tell her that if she's using EBT she needs to run that first. She says she's not using EBT, she just has it. I tell her that if she's not paying with EBT, she needs to pay for her bags.
This, as it turns out, is unacceptable.
She starts telling me about how usually she just says she has EBT and doesn't have to pay for her bags. (That's not how it works at all, for the record, and we can actually get fined by This Town if we get stung and fail to properly charge for bags.) I tell her so. She says that she'll pay one cent on her EBT so she doesn't have to pay for the bags. That's gaming the system, but at this point I just wanna get the line moving, so I tell her that's OK.
She pulls out her wallet and roots through it. And roots. And roots. And roots. And can't find her card. So she asks the man to pull out his wallet, and she starts rooting through it, and still can't find her card.
At this moment I realize that this is all a lot of theater - she's putting on a show of looking for a card that doesn't exist, in the hopes that I'll give and waive the bag charge so that she can save nine cents. (I should mention at this point that as she's rifling through his wallet I can see several monetary notes of some description, and at one point a quarter falls out.)
I have two options at this point. I can play along and give her the bags for free. Or I can continue to let her make a fool of herself, pretending to look for a nonexistent card, so she can save an amount of cash that will buy her (checks notes) still absolutely nothing in this day and age, and let the people in line behind her grow increasingly agitated at her.
I choose the latter. (On the interior, it's what I'm supposed to do as a good supervisor and as a role model to the crew. On the exterior, I'm doing my best not to grin like a fool.)
Eventually, she decides that her card must be in the car and tells her boyfriend to go outside and look for it. Even he's had enough at this point and tells her to just pay for the bags. She loudly proclaims "I'm NOT paying for bags!" She says they're not using any bags. He says he's already bagged the stuff and he's not taking it out. Eventually, he reaches into his pocket and hands her a dime.
Me: So two bags, then?
Her: Yes, fine. (to her boyfriend) WE'RE BAD VEGANS!
Good God, lady. I don't even understand why people get so stingy about such a trivial sum in the first place. To go to this length and inconvenience these many people in order to avoid paying (checks notes) what I make in approximately ten seconds on the clock just boggles the mind. The "bad vegans" part even more so - it was perfectly OK for you to consume two paper bags when they were free, but you're harming the Earth if you have to pay for them?
I hope no one tells you about the origins of the liquid you pumped into your car so you could drive here.
Bonus WTF
Later that same day I was covering the customer service counter so the CS clerk could take their lunch when the phone rang.
The caller ID read as follows: "FIRST GOD".
With some trepidation I answered with the standard greeting.
Silence.
I repeated the greeting.
I heard some indistinguishable, barely audible conversation between two people.
Then the line disconnected.
They do not call back.
Did I just get butt-dialed by the LORD? Is this some sort of sign? Should I be building an ark or something? I mean, it has been raining lately, but that happens every September in This Particular Part of the Country.
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