To the young-ish cashier at Trader Joe’s with very little life experience and a Huge Chip on her shoulder:

Listen you - I know there is a lot being said about power lately: power over, power shared, misuse of power…everyone is worried about whether or not they have their fair share of power.   And I can understand that you, in your job as a cashier for Trader Joe’s, are in a position of relatively no power.  Day in, day out, you are serving people, their attitudes, smells, terrible food choices and unruly children.   But you are going to need to learn how to do this thing called “life” without a chip on your shoulder, sister, or its going to be a really long ride, at the end of which you will have nothing to show for it, except the fact that you gauged folks at the Trader Joes on Lakeshore for bag fees.  Is this what you want?!?

When you asked me if I wanted a single or a double bag, and then you saw me pause and carefully assess my bagging needs and say “single”, why did you then proceed to load TWO bags ½ way full and charge me DOUBLE what you should have charged?  That’s right!  You charged me $.20!  Why did you do that?!? Did you do it because you could?  Did you do it because most of the assholes you run into on a daily basis will demand that you squeeze three bags of items into their one dirty, cat-hair-laden, bring-from-home bag and will make you bag and re-bag until you do it?  Is it because you realize that your are spending your best waking hours, serving other assholes, day after tireless, thankless day?  It doesn't make sense, does it?  And you have got a lot of built-up hostility about the circumstances in which you find yourself, as you smile sweetly and then flip me off.  You saw me coming from a mile away and thought “Watch this: I'm gonna over-bag that b*tch and she’s not going to say anything.”

Which I did not.  I thought about it, reflected upon my options whilst passively-aggressively RE-bagging all of my contents into ONE bag (please refer photo), and suddenly, a wave of compassion and practicality washed over me.  How much of my time, her time, the other patron’s time was I going to selfishly waste, arguing about the morality of a $.10 bag charge?  The answer was none.   I had already calculated the time I would most likely spend (1) obsessing about the issue and how i was wronged, added to the time i would waste (2) deciding whether or not I would confront her, added to (3) ultimately deciding to write a Report on it, I recon this over-bag fiasco was gonna set me back about $50 of my own goddamn time. 

Add that to the $66 parking ticket I got today for being 20 minutes late, and I just wasted the price of a decent pair of joggers, or a good concert, or a night out, etc. etc.  in about 25 minutes.

My point is this:  when you are struggling and struggling and struggling with an issue, and you get to the point at which you can calculate that you have just wasted the price of a good pair of sneakers, stop.  think: would i rather spend my time wasting another potential pair of shoes, or would i rather just have the shoes?  And then go get the shoes. seriously.  go get the shoes.

xo
ritz.