Could You Please Move; You’re Right in Front of the Quinoa

by jen on January 14, 2013

If you somehow missed this when it first came out, enjoy! If you haven’t seen it in a while, it is STILL funny!

I mentioned this on Twitter, so stop me if think you’ve heard this one before, but San Francisco has this BYOBag policy, where you have to bring your own bag or pay 10 cents for one. This is not really that much of a penalty, and I don’t think it should be because probably all the luppies (that is a term I just invented to describe the liberal yuppies this town is chock full of (wait! sorry, it is already being used to describe lesbian yuppies, which this town also has a fair number of)) here have more reusable bags than they can shake a stick at, so it’s mainly a penalty of embarrassment if you forget yours, but not too painful if you can’t afford reusable bags.

This BYOBag policy has provided me with a couple entertaining encounters:

1. The gentleman clutching his Whole Foods 100% Organic Complete Colon Cleanse to his chest as he power-walked home. My friend, you did not want to spring the 10 cents for a gentle amble, unencumbered by fear of discovery, home? I like to imagine him at the checkout, when they asked “Do you need a bag?”, and he weighed environmental sensibility against vanity. Crap! I forgot my bags! I cannot ask for a bag for one item, I’ll seem like an asshole! They will probably think I am a single passenger commuter, too! And the human body is nothing to be ashamed of! Everyone poops! I can’t seem like I am ashamed of my own bodily functions (EVEN THOUGH I TOTALLY AM)! GAAAAAAH! I like to imagine him shouting “Noooo baaaaagggg!!!!” and throwing too much money at the checker and fleeing out the door past the locally sourced certified organic basil and rosemary plants and through the Whole Foods parking lot and into the night.

2. The other one I have spent a lot less time on internally embellishing the experience. Really I just replay to myself the phone conversation I imagine I would have if I were the dude in the Whole Foods parking lot, bagless and holding a plasticked flat of hamburger patties in one hand and my iPhone in the other: “Hey you, whatchu up to?” “Nothing much, just hanging out in the Whole Foods parking lot with some uncooked chuck and my dignity in hand, whatchu doin’?”

Also, I hope this post does not feel mean-spirited. Mainly, I just think people are silly — me, too, probably I am the silliest, in fact. I just like to make things sillier, for comedic (to me) effect.

Also also, I had a little chuckle at my own expense when, the same day as I tweeted about the fallout from SF’s pro-reusable bag policy, my friend Tina gave me for my birthday: (1) a quaint little repurposed (I think the hipster term is “upcycled”) typewriter letter J necklace, and (2) REUSABLE PRODUCE BAGS.

Hahahahaha. I will see you and your organic, free range chicken you are carting home in your Prius in that dye-free, free trade cotton bag, and I will raise you reusable produce bags filled with locally grown asparagus! What? You say your plastic produce bags are actually biodegradable? My bags do not need to biodegrade because they can be reused FOREVERRRRRRR!!!!!

All this is to say that I am a complete, total, recognized by my friends as a, semi-hipster hippie, and a lot of times I am scared that we have irrevocably pushed this planet past the point where it will be able to sustain my children(if I’m lucky enough to have any)’s children, and certainly my children’s children’s children.

But if I ever buy a colon cleanse, I’m walking that shiite home in a (paper) bag. Which I’ll recycle later. Namaste.

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