Plastic Bags: It ends here.

A letter to the editor of my local newspaper, published here for anyone doesn't live in Victoria.

I want to commend Oak Bay residents. Many of them try to reduce waste by using cloth grocery bags rather than plastic ones. As a Safeway cashier, I’m in a position to notice and appreciate this.

However, for every conscientious person who brings bags, there’s another who doesn’t seem to care. They wrap each item- the coffee, the chicken, the single apple, and the tiny box of pills- in its own produce bag, and expects the cashier to put the whole lot in another plastic bag at the checkout. Sometimes they even ask for double bags, lest their hands get sore from carrying that heavy load.

The usual justification for this is to prevent coffee grounds from getting on the apple, or fluid from the chicken leaking out. But why? Stuff washes off.

It almost hurts to think of the reams of flimsy plastic that pass through my hands every day. I want it to stop. It’s possible- Ireland has almost eliminated the use of plastic bags by simply of taxing the heck out of them. People waste things that are free, but a 25-cent tax will make them think. It would make me think too- I occasionally use plastic bags myself, even though I have fabric ones at home. I wouldn’t mind some help breaking the habit.

Not to generalize, but I have noticed a pattern in the worst of the bag-wasters. They tend to pay close attention to discounts, quibble over sales prices, and count their change carefully. I think people of this temperament would respond very quickly to a bag tax.

I don’t understand, in fact, why BC doesn’t have a bag tax already, seeing how well it has worked for the Irish. Perhaps the people in charge of these things are just waiting until enough citizens demand it, to be sure it’s what we really want. In that case, add my name to the list.

How To Deflect Hatred

When you are paying for your purchases in a store, especially a high volume grocery store, 9 times out of ten, you are in close proximity to someone who hates you. Severely, passionately, hates you. I speak of the cashier. S/he hates you because you do the same annoying things that every single customer does. Time wasting, idiotic little things that make the poor cashier want to do violence. As a public service, I want to explain how to avoid bringing this psychic wrath down on yourself.

1. Don't count change.

If you're paying cash, use bills. Don't count out every damn penny, especially if you're old and you don't know how to count and your hand shakes. Just put your stupid change in a jar and take it to the bank once a month. Let them deal with it-it's their job. At the store, just pay fast and get out.

If you really don't have any money but change, forgawdssake let the cashier count it, okay? They're good at it. It's their job.

2. If you brought your own bags, say something.

Don't wait until the packer has already loaded most of your stuff into plastic, and then make them take it out and repack it. Get your head out of your ass and speak up.

3. Also, don't bring floppy bags.

Look, you brought your own bags, it's good, you're a good person, saving the environment and stuff. You're much holier than the person in no. 4. Still, don't bring your grungy old bags from the seventies. They are floppy and hard to pack, and the cashier has to waste time wrestling with them. It sucks.

4. Don't be a pansy.

Ooh, this bag is too heavy. Can you double bag it? Wah, I have a bad back. Don't pack too much stuff in the bag. Could I have a bag for this tiny bottle of medicine? For this single apple? To put my asshole in after the cashier tears me a new one?

Man up and take the heavy bags. If you can't handle it, go die. You're probably too old to live anyway.

5. The cashier has no fucking clue how much stuff costs, and doesn't care.

It's a big store, okay? The prices are marked right on the shelves, if you want to know, go look. Don't ask me.

This is a partial list. I think I've forgotten something. But next time you go to the cashier, analyze your actions. Think, would it be annoying if I had to watch someone do this 1000 time a day? If yes, don't do it. Kthxbai.

The Hangover Shift

Yeah, I should know better than to party on a Monday night when I have to work on Tuesday morning. Tuesdays are bad enough without a hangover. At least I was smart enough not to try driving home last night, so I woke up on the couch of the Kabuki Kabs headquarters downtown. That gave me two hours to hustle home and make myself decent for work at 10. Along the way, I narrowly avoided losing my gloves and keys, and did lose my cell phone and my temper. No one should have to climb over a rusty iron gate at 8 in the morning.

Okay, so finally at work. No headache, just dizziness and general despondency. This translated to a sort of slow clumsiness that my new co-workers probably think is my normal state of being. A woman came in, your basic old-but-but-not-elderly type. She bought cigarettes and $50 in lottery tickets. Lord, this can't go on. If I'm still a minimum wage slave at that age, just strike me down with lightning.

And now, off to Big Bad John's to hopefully locate my phone.