Eco warrior

I had to go the bank last Friday to pay a cheque in. I so rarely visit banks these days what with online banking and ATMs and being skint that there was actually something quite nostalgic about it: the queue; the pen that didn't work; the paying in slip with 'adrian is gay' conveniently already written on it so I didn't have to. I came out of the bank and, from the corner of my eye, saw the Co-op. 'Ooh, ' I thought, obviously affected by the whole Adrian thing, 'I could really do with some stuff for the weekend.' This moment of realisation is significant so bear with me.

I went into the Co-op intent on getting a snack or two for the journey dahn sarf to see my girl and watch the Boro game. As is always the way I started without trolley or even a basket but as I went round responding to effective merchandising, low low prices, by one get one frees and hunger pangs piling things up like the kids used to in that game on Crackerjack I thought I'd better get one. ( a basket that is- thought I'd clarify that. That sentence is ridiculously long and unwieldy but what is great is that it doesn't matter cos this is a blog and not masters level work. I have been criticising students' syntax all week, that's why this is on my hypocritical mind).

So I got the basket, filled it to the brim with saturated fats, sugars and, by way of compromise, some healthy bacteria and a vegetable. I got to the counter where some old lady ahead of me took about 15 minutes organising two tins of cat food and some moist toilet tissue into her tartan suitcase type thing on wheels. Then she paid. None of this bothered me in the slightest. I did not tut or moan. I'd never get really angry with a random person but, if you know me, you'll know I can be a little sarcastic from time to time. On this occasion I did nothing of the sort. In my mind, my face expressed a sympathetic but not pitying acknowledgement of what advancing years mean along with a furrowed brow sensitive and kind demeanour which said that I hoped that both she and her cat would be OK.

To summarise up to this point:
a) I hadn't intended going shopping at all
b) I was in a good mood
c) I'd bought quite a lot of stuff.

My turn arrives and I greet the checkout woman. She slides all my stuff down the till ramp but there are no bags.
'Can I have a bag please?'
'Why haven't you got one?' This confused me a bit and I think my reply must have got her back up even though it wasn't meant to.
'You haven't given me one.'
'You have to bring your own. For the environment.'
'I don't have my own.'
'Everyone in Hebden Bridge got one.'
'I don't live in Hebden Bridge. Can only Hebden Bridge people shop here? Is there some kind of hippy bag law?'
'It's for the environment,' she said again.
'I see, but I didn't know I was coming shopping.'

Her look made me feel like I was single handedly responsible for global warming, holes in the ozone layer, world war two and all disease and pestilence. Never the less she reluctantly handed me one miserable and flimsy Co-op bag. I quickly filled it.
'Err, can I have another one please?' Images of Crackerjack re-entered my mind as i imagined being forced to totter down the road back to my evil polluting car with all the stuff piled up so I couldn't see where I was going.

Eventually I managed to get three bags out of her. After I paid I heard her say to the woman from Hebden Bridge who was behind me in the queue: 'It's for the environment.'