We'll call her "Helen"

When I got in line at Target yesterday, I looked up and saw I was in Helen’s line. I don’t really know her name, but to me, she looks like a Helen. Since I was a couple customers back, I debated backing out and picking a line that was not Helen’s line. But then I got trapped. So I stayed.

You see, I try to avoid Helen.

Upon our first encounter about a month ago, I thought she was just an incredibly unhappy and miserable woman who hated her Target cashier job and wore latex gloves to avoid touching other people’s filthy groceries. She repeatedly glared at me as I pushed my cart up and requested “Paper, please.” She audibly huffed with each can of crushed pineapples she placed in the bag. And she never smiles. Ever. Never ever.

So, I’ve been through her line several times and it’s always the same thing: glare – scowl – gloves – huff – glare – huff – scowl - etc… And the gloves. What is with that? Does she have some strange obsessive-compulsive disorder in which she cannot allow herself to touch groceries? Is she a germophobe? Boy, is she in the wrong line of work. I love Target. I love Target so much; I sometimes go there just for fun. And she put a sour note at the end of each visit.

Then one day last week, my curiosity got the best of me. As she was huffing and pulling on the gloves, I asked her, “So…why the gloves?” She looked up with yet another scowl and said, “It’s the paper bags. I’m allergic.” Huff. And she proceeded to bag my groceries.

Really? Allergic to paper grocery bags?

I hate plastic bags at Target. I actually hate those plastic bags anywhere. Sure, they’re fine if you just buying a bra and a couple tubes of toothpaste. But $163 worth of groceries? Shoved haphazardly in those little plastic bags? God, I hate that! I refuse to use those bags. Plus, the liberal, democrat, Al-Gore-loving side of me feels a little greener using paper.

So, that brings me to where I started this little entry. As my turn approached, I slowly wheeled my cart up beside her. She looked up and glared, ready for me to make my usual request for paper. My eyes went from hers, to the big latex gloves lying beside the cash register, and back to hers again. She continued to glare, and met my gaze, as she fluffed open one of those plastic bags. I stared at her as she placed the first box of Cheerios in the plastic. And then added 1 more (since that’s all those damn bags really hold, anyway). It was like a showdown – I swear I saw a tumbleweed blow by in the corner of my eye. And then I opened my mouth…

…and didn’t say a single word. Gah!!!

So, am I a big wussy wimp? Or am I just a concerned person not wanting to witness, much less be the cause of, an anaphylactic reaction?

I think I’ll just avoid Helen’s line on my next trip to Target. Who the hell is allergic to paper grocery bags, anyway?