SATURDAY THOUGHTS: BAG TAX

I don't think I'll ever get used to it. 

I put all of my purchases on the counter. 

The cashier rings them up. Then there's a pause. 

I'm waiting. 

The cashier is staring. 

I stare back dumbfounded. The cashier is smiling. 

I smile back.
Has the next step been forgotten? 

Has the cashier fallen asleep standing up? 

Am I in some weird Twilight Zone time warp? 

Has the world stopped spinning? 

Am I on Candid Camera? Am I being punked?
"Ma'am, do you need a bag?"
HUH? 

Duh? 

Of COURSE I need a bag! Do you SEE all of this stuff you just rang up? Am I supposed to carry it out of here in my skirt? Can I borrow a cart? (I say all of that in my head of course. Mommy always said, "Be polite" and it kinda stuck.) 

Is the cashier REALLY asking me if I need a bag?
Oh. My bad.

I live in DC. 

Bags cost 5 cents. 

I will probably need more than one. 

There are never any large bags that will preclude me from looking like I need a hand. 

"Uh, yes. Yes. I need bags. Thank you. I totally forgot where I lived. All of that shopping in Maryland and Virginia, where a bag just goes along with the shopping experience, has me spoiled."

That Potomac and Chesapeake Bay had better start looking like the Caribbean very soon.