Receipts.

Receipts.
Those little bits of paper that prove you worked up the courage to venture out into the cold cruel world and spend your cold hard cash.
They make me crazy.
You have to keep them for like a million years and they keep taking up more and more space doing their job.
This post exists because I needed some cheese.
Not some artisan, imported, fancy schmancy cheese.
Just sliced cheese.
The kind that we used to use when we would make regular old grilled cheese sandwiches to eat with our tomato soup for lunch.
Back when the earth's crust was still cooling apparently.
Now everything is a specialty item or complicated and healthy.
And I mean everything.
Receipts included.
Well, receipts aren't healthy particularly unless shredded receipt paper is a favorite salad topping, but they have become complicated.
They tell you:
-what you bought,
-how many you bought,
-how much you paid,
-how much you saved,
-total items purchased,
-what day of the week you bought it on,
-the time of day you bought it - down to minutes and seconds,
-the name of the store you bought it at,
-the store address,
-the store phone number,
-the store managers name,
-the cashiers name,
-how many children they each have to feed because that is the only reason they are even working at this store,
-the store motto,
-the complete history of retail and it's accomplishments all the way back to the industrial revolution
a n d
-how many points I have now earned on my quest to earn more of the points that I never knew I collected or have never been rewarded by anyway.
This information makes the receipt about 40 feet long.
Where am I supposed to stuff this colossal flattened forest remnant?
Arrrggghhh.
Take a deep breath and count to 10.9.8.7....
No problem really.
I have adapted...except when the receipt is given to me in the same handful as my change.
What do they think I am supposed to do?
Just drop this giant wad of money, receipt paper and coins in the Halloween pillow case I must now carry because my purse can't hold all this mess?
Heaven forbid they give me enough time to put the change into it's slotted section of my wallet THEN fold up the 40 foot snake of a receipt separately while the people behind me are shuffling their slippers and sighing loudly because they actually remembered to bring their Halloween pillow case to this event.
I would have less stuff to carry if we were back with the Barter System.
" Yes Ma'am, your change comes to a salt block and 2 goldfish that we can just drop down in your apron pockets if that's alright, and you have a nice day!"
When I pay the store, I don't hand them 35 different things and expect it to be dropped in the drawer and counted later.
I gave the store time to count and separate everything but I get handed a handful of stuff and a 'Scoot on out of here' attitude in return.
It's the cash isn't it?
Cash is so last year.
But I can't help it.
When I use plastic, I spend a lot more.
The stores know this and they hate me.
Well, I'm pretty sure they hate everyone.
They only love money.
So to show consumers their interpretation of love and their desire to see us again they give us a Christmas tree garland size, humongus receipt with all of their vital information on it, sort of like a dating profile, in the hopes that you will cherish this information in the candle light with a bottle of wine and choose to visit the store again and again as you remember your special time together.
Good times, good times...
Sniff, sniff, tissue please.
Not.
The receipt gets stuffed in a drawer and mostly forgotten.

I think I'd rather just have a goldfish.

Thanks for being here.