So last night I stop at the Giant in New Cumberland on the way home from work. I have maybe a dozen items in my cart. It’s about 6 p.m. and half the checkout lines are closed. I pick the one where the store manager is working the cash register.
I like to watch managers do real work occasionally.
The customer in front of me gets through the lane, and the manager starts on my stuff. Then a big, dirty guy ambles up to the bagging end of the lane, eating something from a broken plastic spoon. He licks off the spoon and puts it somewhere. Then he wipes his hand on his dark, dreggy Giant golf shirt.
I don’t know why. His hand was probably cleaner before he wiped it on the shirt.
This is the guy who is going to put my food into a bag.