First, some attention to the matter of whether anyone ever means to get into a fight. Maybe “meaning to” is going too far, but certainly one could say that in certain moods, one, at the very least, is not actively opposed to getting into a fight.
But I was one hundred innocent of evil intent or even willingness to spar when I was at Rainbow two weeks ago, where they have a policy of giving you five cents off for any container you bring from home for reuse, plus ten cents for a reused paper grocery bag.
I had brought along five containers with lids, two plastic bags (and my own twistems), and a paper grocery bag. The checkout guy rang up my five containers with lids, but didn’t enter the credits, so I started to say, “Besides those five containers, I have two plastic bags and a paper bag,” but right after I said, “Besides those five containers—” he interrupted, saying, “I can’t give you a bag credit for ten cents’ worth of salt!” Or however many cents it was; not many.
In all the years I have been shopping there, I have never had anyone object to giving any bag credit. After all, sometimes it’s ten cents’ worth of salt, but other times it’s twelve dollars' worth of organic green tea—which occupies about the same space as ten cents’ worth of salt, as it happens.
So I said in my most reasonable tone, “Don’t you think it kind of evens out over time? Like, sometimes the purchase is small, but other times it’s larger?”
He said their policy forbids giving the credit for such a small purchase. (Does that mean they will give me multiple credits for a single container if it’s a huge purchase? Doubtful.)
I said, “I’ve never seen it written like that.”
He said, “Well, it’s not written anywhere.”
Then he added, “All right! If you have to have your bag credit, I’ll give you your bag credit!” In fact, I hadn’t insisted on anything, though I do think he was rather obviously making things up as he went along, because he hates the bald.
As it happened, I needed some cash, so I could tip mattress bringers and takers the next day. I had swiped my card and pushed the “credit” button before asking about the cash back.
He said, “You can only get cash back with an ATM card.”
I said, “Oh, actually, this is an ATM card.” I use it like it’s a credit card, but it is in fact a debit card.
He laboriously canceled the transaction and I started over. He took a twenty and a five out of his cash drawer and then I said, “Could I trouble you for two tens and a five?” Then I think I saw actual steam coming out of his ears, at which I allowed my lips to curve upward in primal enjoyment of another’s (self-inflicted) misery; his back was to me. He handed me the bills without a further word, ditto my receipt.
He was obviously shrieking bad words inside his head.
I was somewhat indignant that he had turned this routine transaction into a big hassle, and stopped to mention it to the kind-faced lady with the brown eyes who has worked at the customer service counter forever.
She said, “Really? We give bag credits? I didn’t know that. Well, I guess he should probably just do it.” Rainbow is a co-op: no managers to complain to.
Then I found myself mentally drafting a letter to Rainbow to let them know what a jerk this guy is, how wrong he was: “I wasn’t aware that the bag credit was a reward for spending a lot of money at Rainbow—though I do spend a lot of money at Rainbow!—but rather thought it was meant as an incentive not to acquire a container that may ultimately be harmful to the environment. Are you suggesting that buying twelve dollars’ worth of organic green tea in a new container is bad but that buying ten cents’ worth of salt in a new container is just fine?”
I was much more worked up drafting my letter than I had been during the actual conversation. And then I realized that this activity was a form of auto-unpleasantness, and that it wasn’t like anyone was going to write me back and say, “You’re right; this guy is a big jerk. We’ve fired him.”
So then I just dropped the entire thing and that was that, and my menu practice for the next day was not to think of Rainbow at all, and I didn’t.
They also have been storing a lot of crap near the bike racks, which irks me, but after I was there most recently and the checkout lady told me about Bike Coalition members getting ten percent off their purchases every day, I was very glad I hadn’t complained about the bag credit guy or the disrespect to the bike racks.
They don’t hate us, they love us.
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