Posted by
ShiningCity on Friday, December 07, 2007 12:09:01 PM
I did the unthinkable. I bought those reusable cloth bags from Wal-mart. You know the ones--made especially for the "save the environment" types. Before you start gettin' all crazy, and accusing me of being "one of those people," I would like to explain why.
I hate plastic bags. Seriously. What are you supposed to do with all the plastic bags? I've tried employing these bags for all sorts of jobs: trash can liners (too small, and always have a microscopic hole that is only visible once liquid trash contents enter the bag), wet swimsuit holder (don't swim much in Colorado), school lunch box (kids absolutely reject this idea), purse (kidding), holder for fireplace ashes (until warm ashes melted the bag and spilled all over the floor), and more. The only routine job for these bags is to hold coffee grounds and fish or chicken bones so my trash can doesn't smell prematurely foul. Frankly, I don't cook that much stinky food to warrant saving all these bags. My friend, Julie, uses them for scooping out her kitty litter box, but I don't have a cat. There was a time when the stores asked, "Paper or plastic?" I fear those days are gone--nobody's asked me this in quite a while (nor does anyone "card me" for alcohol anymore, either). May I have paper, please?
Paper bags are good for all sorts of things. You can wrap up deer meat in paper bags for freezer storage. Paper's good for trash can liners, even double bagging. Unlike plastic, paper bags can catch warm ashes without consequence. And paper folds up nicely. Just store the paper bags flat, neatly in a cabinet. Remember the days of using paper bags as school book covers? Guess what: now, school books are covered with fabric to "save the environment." I don't understand this. I thought paper bags were good, especially compared to all these plastic bags. Paper comes from trees; trees are natural; trees biodegrade. Could I just have paper, please?
I don't have an issue with plastic. I like plastic. All kinds of items that are good are plastic. I'm not prejudiced. My issue is with the storage of all these bags. I started out with a J hook on the wall in the pantry. I hung a large bag on the hook and stuffed in it all of the smaller bags. But, it filled. What now? I bought one of those fabric sock-looking-things with elastic on one end and a hanger on the other. I hung it in the pantry, too. I stuffed it full of bags (the elastic bottom makes it easy to pull out a single bag to "reuse it"). Not too long after, It's filled. NOW what? So, then I bought one of those stainless holders that mounts on the wall, and in it, I stuffed the bags. Now it's filled. NOW WHAT? I took some bags out of each storage area and moved them upstairs to the laundry area--again, a large bag stuffed full of smaller ones hanging on a J hook, hoping that I will use them "for something to do with laundry." Now all the storage places are full, and I am just stuffing the bags in a bottom kitchen cabinet with the tupperware. I opened the cabinet to try and find my deviled egg holder, and I was raped by all these bags. That's IT!!! WHY CAN'T I JUST HAVE PAPER PLEASE?
Like any good crazy person, I started swearing at the bags, and then gathered them all and ran in my robe to the street--toting behind me laundry baskets filled with plastic bags. As I stuffed them into the 3 large green bins, I'm still talking to the bags, "I'll show you!" I even saw the neighbor across the street eyeing me suspiciously through the kitchen window. She was shaking her head. I know what she was thinking, "Tsk tsk. Shhheee doesn't recycle." WHY CAN'T SOMEBODY JUST LET ME HAVE PAPER, PLEASE (sobbing).
I even talked to the Wal-mart store manager about this ("Paul"). (Ok, I was asking him to order me some special pie crusts, and I just happened to slip it in.) I asked him specifically why I cannot have paper bags. He told me, while walking away, "paper bags are wasteful, not environmentally friendly, and ruin our forests. And, ruining our forests is against Wal-mart policy." "And plastic doesn't?" I asked, to which he replied, "Well, you can return your bags to Wal-mart and we will recycle them." So, let me get this straight. Now I'm supposed to take the bags that are displacing me from my home and fill my car up with them so I can return said bags to Wal-mart? Come on. Like any good smart aleck, I inquired loudly as to whether Wal-mart employees go through special training to learn to put only 2 items in each bag, forcing me to go home with 100 bags instead of only 3, or do they all just do this to get on my nerves? That's when I was escorted, by Paul, to the area of the store where the cloth reusable bags are sold. $2 per bag. Is that a hint? You've got to be freaking kidding me. Now you want me to pay for bags?? We’d all be happier, especially Paul, if they’d just let me have paper bags…..
Determined not to lose, I tried my hardest for the next two months to cut down on the volume of bags I brought home from shopping, even throwing my body over the circular wheel of bags at the end of the Wal-mart check out lane to prevent injudicious use. I also discovered self-check-out, so I could control the number of bags. But, I was asked (by Paul) not to use the self-check-out for my 100 items. Apparently it makes other patrons upset.
Then it happened. I was standing in line with about 30 items (Paul says I can only use self-check-out for less than 20 items), thinking to myself, "This is going to be another 20 bags...." and, all of a sudden, I see the cloth bags. Magically, someone moved them just next to the check out. $2 a bag, which by this time, seemed cheaper than therapy. So, I bought them. 6 cloth bags. $12.00. This weekend, I am celebrating and throwing in the garbage bins my remaining plastic bags, except ten, which I will save for the coffee grounds. Now my problem is that my cloth Wal-mart reusable bags make me look like a liberal. I need a patch to iron on my bags that says, "I'm not a liberal tree-hugger; I'm just a psycho." If anybody knows where I might find such a patch, I'd be appreciative.