Of the terrible combinations of cashier-customer at a grocery store, among the worst is a motherly cashier and a 20-something guy with no sense of nutrition.
It’s painful to even see a guy purchase nothing but frozen pizza, 2L bottles of Pepsi, potato chips, and (for some reason) lemon juice. You know he’s incapable of taking care of himself. When the cashier is a nice middle-aged woman who loves to make conversation, you overhear her talking about how he must be getting this to share with his friends, as she goes to great lengths to put the frozen pizza in a plastic bag to make sure it doesn’t fall out when he’s walking home. She has to triple-bag the giant load of soft drinks, but to avoid getting crushed the super-light bag of chips gets its own plastic bag. I’m saving not just the environment, but time by bringing a reusable canvas bag: throw shit in there, I don’t care, let me pay and leave.
This exemplifies why I don’t want children to take care of, why I really don’t want a man to take care of, and why I really, even in a higher-end supermarket where this is deterred to keep unionized workers relevant, really prefer self checkout.