Checkout line of the supermarket, you hand the woman a twenty, she takes that long-ass receipt you get these days because they itemize every can of Friskies individually (might as well, it’s all going in the GIANT GOVERNMENT DATABASE anyhow, which is why I’m paying cash), folds this banner up two or three times, puts your bills on top of that, and your change on top of that and hands it back to you.
Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
See, change goes in the pocket, bills go in the wallet, receipt goes…well, who the hell cares? What, am I going to itemize my groceries on my 1040 this year? So you’ve got your wallet in your left hand, and this big dilemma in your right hand, the next customer’s cans of Friskies are already rolling down the conveyor, bumping up against your bagged groceries in the most intimate way. That big-ass receipt wouldn’t even fit in your wallet if you tried, so don’t try jamming everything in there.
My general technique is, I wedge one corner of the whole business into my wallet, just enough to hold it, tilt everything back until the change falls in my hand, pocket that, pluck the receipt off the top and do…whatever with it, and then get the bills properly en-walletted.
Wheee! That was fun!
This all started suddenly a few years ago, didn’t it? They used to put the receipt in the bag, thanks very much, and then I only had to worry about sliding the bills out from under the change. If I had to guess, I’d say some supermarket chain invented the procedure to discourage customers from claiming they didn’t get a receipt when they come back later to complain about some damn fool thing. And then they all picked it up off each other like goddamned yam-washing monkeys.
Well, I have an idea. Why not take that receipt and saw it across the back of my hand a couple of times until I get a papercut? That way I couldn’t deny I got a receipt — because, duh, I have a papercut — and you could go on and put the receipt in the bag, the way I like it.
It is a hard life being anal-retentive. Y’all have no idea.