Every Friday, I treat myself to coffee and a breakfast item. It’s my reward for reaching the end of another work week with my sanity intact.
Some weeks it’s more intact than others, but that’s beside the point.
Last week, I stopped at Starbucks for a Vanilla Sweet Cream Cold Brew and a Spinach, Feta & Egg White Wrap. Pretty much my summer go-to. Starbucks is convenient because I can order through the app on my phone, and by the time I reach the lobby of the Alex Johnson Hotel downtown 10 minutes later, it’s ready for me to pick up. I always pity those folks standing in line. Suckers.
Anyway. I grabbed my stuff, shoved money in the tip jar, and was walking back to my car when the SF&EW Wrap slipped through the bottom of the (apparently faulty-at-the-seams) bag and landed with a plop on the sidewalk. I calmly reached down, picked it up, brushed it off, and returned it to the bag. When I got to work, I ate it.
Is that gross…?
I’ve never been squeamish over a little dirt. It’s like the five-second rule was invented just for me! Truth be told, I’d go 10 or 15 seconds in a pinch. I’m a rebel that way.
Judge if you want, but I wasn’t about to throw away a perfectly good $4 breakfast wrap. Besides, I rarely get sick. Even my COVID, if it was that, came without symptoms. I have to think my willingness to eat food off…well, anything…has been a boon to my immune system.
Check back with me when I’m 100 and we’ll see if this theory holds water.
I came across a recent CNN article that declared nobody likes self-checkout stands. Hate to burst their bubble, but that’s baloney.
I don’t just like self-checkout. I love it.
I’m too impatient to waste precious time waiting in regular checkout lines. Unless my cart is especially full, I rarely bother. Why should I? For starters, I have an uncanny knack for choosing the wrong lane. Nine times out of 10, I’ll pick the line that moves the slowest — even if there are fewer people to begin with. I usually end up bagging my own groceries and loading them into my cart anyway. And then swiping my card to pay for them. I’m already doing most of the work, so I might as well eliminate the middleman and do the whole thing myself.
The best part about the whole DIY experience? No more polite-but-inane banter. I already know the weather is [fill-in-the-blank]; we don’t have to have a conversation about it. I also don’t have to pretend to care that your shift is about to end or express fake sympathy that you’re going to be stuck behind that register for the next eight hours. What’s that? You’re a fan of these new Rosemary & Olive Oil Triscuits, too? No WAY!
(Also, so what.)
And, why are you asking me whether that’s an Anaheim or Poblano pepper in my basket? I always assumed grocery cashiers received training on produce identification. Half the time, I don’t know the difference myself. If I’m self-scanning and unsure, I just pick one randomly. They weigh something like .038 of a pound and cost six or seven cents anyway, so it’s not going to be a costly mistake if I’m wrong.
Those produce codes are admittedly the trickiest thing about self-checkout. Well, guess what? My local Safeway just eliminated them. Now you can scan the UPC sticker and the computer is smart enough to know you’re buying a kumquat as opposed to a banana. There’s really no excuse for not scanning your own stuff anymore.
Remember how our A/C was on the fritz for eight long, hot days? Naturally, as soon as it was fixed, the weather decided to turn rainy and cool.
Sunday was so stormy, we ended up with almost 3″ of rain. Crazy.
We actually left the A/C off quite a bit this week. Further proof that Mother Nature has a cruel and twisted sense of humor.
Do you follow the five-second rule? Are there exceptions for sidewalks and streets? Do YOU think I’ll live to 100? How do you feel about self-checkout?