Liberation

Yes! The Blonde Philosopher has been liberated. As I walked through the market today (why are all my posts about the supermarket all of a sudden? I feel like I have become one of those old ladies to whom the activity of going to Stop and Shop is a significant social excursion...), I made my way through the fruit aisle to approach my banana dilemma once more. Having pondered for much too long over which species of apple I would like to eat this week (I decided on Fuji), I came face to face with a mountain of greenish and yellow bananas. I scanned my immediate area quickly and made a decision. I WOULD break the bunch. I WOULD go home with only three bananas because I knew I could never eat six before they turned brown and mushy.

Then... I did it. I detached the bananas from their cluster. No one thought I was strange for doing so. I did not feel an impending sense of guilt about it. Only liberation from a wasteful society.

When I approached the self-checkout counter, my experience of banana liberation immediately went down hill. Why is it that one frequently requires MORE assistance at the self-checkout? Does that not defeat the purpose of having SELF checkout? I called on the clerk at least a half dozen times. Between the automated woman's voice nagging me not to place items on the belt and my yogurt not scanning due to the container's awkward rounded barcode, I made a vow to deal with human being cashiers from now on. Hell may be "other people" as Sartre remarked, but all of Dante's nine circles of it are surely comprised of automated systems.