Quit grabbing my muffin sack!
To anyone who read that title and drew a sexual connotation: shame on you!
I'm really talking about a sack of muffins...bakery. I have a pet peeve about how my muffins get handled at my favorite local semi-hippie grocery store.
Generally, I'm not a fan of hippies 'cause of that whole dirt-lovin' job-fearin' thing, but you gotta give it to them. They know how to put together some healthy food. BTW, I'm kidding about the hippie hate. I know some wonderful hippies who work in the summer and bathe at least once a week.
So I compromise, and occasionally, shuffling and kicking my feet like a child being dragged into church or the doctor's office, I'll join my wife on a trip to the hippie food store.
After work Wednesday we went to that store, grabbed a few items, made fun of the handful of people we saw wearing tight shiny too-short things (with really high heels) as if they were at a night club, and then we got in the checkout line.
The cashier was nice and friendly, average friendly, not like the one who told us her life story and wished us luck cooking our food. But when he got to my bag of muffins he picked up the bag and squeezed it as though that would tell him what was inside and how much he should charge.
This is the third time that has happened to me at this particular store. The last time, a ham-fisted cashier strangled my muffins, and she inadvertently rubbed the icing off of my favorite muffin by squeezing too hard trying to figure out the "mystery in the paper bag." I was crushed...and so was my muffin.
My wife saved the day this time. She managed to halt the muffin assault by telling the cashier "there are two muffins" inside the bag.
He said "Oh," stopped squeezing and rang them up.
Why didn't I think of that? Better yet, why didn't store management think of that?
Ask what's in the frickin' bakery bags. It's a better policy. I'll tell you what's inside. Just step away from the muffins. No one and no pastry need to get hurt.
I'm really talking about a sack of muffins...bakery. I have a pet peeve about how my muffins get handled at my favorite local semi-hippie grocery store.
Generally, I'm not a fan of hippies 'cause of that whole dirt-lovin' job-fearin' thing, but you gotta give it to them. They know how to put together some healthy food. BTW, I'm kidding about the hippie hate. I know some wonderful hippies who work in the summer and bathe at least once a week.
So I compromise, and occasionally, shuffling and kicking my feet like a child being dragged into church or the doctor's office, I'll join my wife on a trip to the hippie food store.
After work Wednesday we went to that store, grabbed a few items, made fun of the handful of people we saw wearing tight shiny too-short things (with really high heels) as if they were at a night club, and then we got in the checkout line.
The cashier was nice and friendly, average friendly, not like the one who told us her life story and wished us luck cooking our food. But when he got to my bag of muffins he picked up the bag and squeezed it as though that would tell him what was inside and how much he should charge.
This is the third time that has happened to me at this particular store. The last time, a ham-fisted cashier strangled my muffins, and she inadvertently rubbed the icing off of my favorite muffin by squeezing too hard trying to figure out the "mystery in the paper bag." I was crushed...and so was my muffin.
My wife saved the day this time. She managed to halt the muffin assault by telling the cashier "there are two muffins" inside the bag.
He said "Oh," stopped squeezing and rang them up.
Why didn't I think of that? Better yet, why didn't store management think of that?
Ask what's in the frickin' bakery bags. It's a better policy. I'll tell you what's inside. Just step away from the muffins. No one and no pastry need to get hurt.
posted by James Burnett at
12:17 AM
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22 comments
