Garbage Day!

Paper Bag Dilemma

"Paper or plastic," she said, smiling falsely.

Yeah, she would say that. Gosh I hate people who ask me what kind of bag I want. Why don't they ever know? God damn, my life is such a mess since I turned 16. You grow up so fast and suddenly life is all wacky and people are asking about plastic bags then you don't know where the hell you are anymore.

"Young man? Would you like paper or plastic?"

"Uh, whatever, I don't care," I said. "We're all going to end up in some crumby cemetery anyway." Who cares about bags? Phony phonies, that's who. God I hate phony bags and phony bag ladies.

The bag lady shrugged, then dropped my Hungry Man TV dinners into a plastic bag. Figures she'd choose plastic. No one ever notices how bad the environment is when they're bagging phony groceries. They say they care about the environment but they're a bunch of phonies. If only everyone were as deep and thoughtful as me, then they'd know what to notice in the world, such as the disappearing duck epidemic and cuss words written on walls.

The woman had finally finished bagging my groceries. God damn she took a long time, I had to be in New York to get drunk and wander around aimlessly in less than two hours! I grabbed the bag and tore it out of her hands, then I dumped the contents out on the floor because I'm a real tough guy. I saw those synthetic TV dinners and they made me feel real crumby so I sat down right there in the middle of the checkout line and cried. I shrieked. I moaned. I squeezed my eyes shut and spilled hot tears. I made a real scene. It was all too much if you want to know the truth. All these kids falling in rye and stuff, how could I catch them? Impossible! I couldn't take this world anymore and all this growing up and shit. It was too much, all these phony bags and phony TV dinners, and phony bag ladies. Phony air, probably not even breathing real oxygen. Just put me in the loony bin, I quit.