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30 / M / Straight / Available
Saint Louis, Missouri
His journal posts
Nov 22, 2006
Finally, after I threw the last item across the scanner, I looked up, belching out the total. The young man nodded, and pulled up some sort of bag. I eyed it warily, knowing that bags were horrible nuisances and hating them with intesity after having worked around them for years, and soon my hatred dissolved into inner laughter as I realized that I was looking at a man purse. It was not a tote bag, or some other sort of bag--this could only be described as a man purse.
While I'm stifling giggles, he attempts to pay with his food stamp card. Naturally, he doesn't have a balance. He probably spent all of his money on man purses. And who can blame him? It was a fine man purse.
I point out to him that the annoying sound my computer just made signaled the rejection of his food stamp card. His response was to say, "Oh, let me get my other EBT card."
Now, maybe it's just me, but I always thought the government wouldn't be stupid enough to give ONE person TWO food stamp cards. I mean, if I were running things, that'd probably be a rule or something. Perhaps they made an exception for this man--he had a man purse, after all.
Of course, instead of pulling out a second EBT card, instead he pulls out several huge piles of receipts. He must have had a life's worth of receipts in his man purse. Soon I could no longer see anything as I was buried beneath the receipts from his bottomless man purse. And no EBT card to be found.
I felt saddened, but I was forced to tell the man-purse man to get the fuck out of the store and to leave his groceries with me. So he collected his abundant receipts, stuffed them back into his man purse, and waddled away dejectedly. He was a terrible nuisance, and he wasted so much time that all the customers behind him were now scowling and speaking tersely and angrily as if the man purse fiasco had been of my devising--but I could not bring myself to hate the man purse man as much as the others did. Sure, he was cheating the government, he couldn't afford his groceries, and he had somehow collected every receipt he had ever received--but his man purse made up for it all. In retrospect, I am sort of thankful that he did not have any money. It just would have been another receipt added to the collection. I slyly would have purposely "forgotten" to give him his receipt, just out of pity. I, too, can understand the plight of receipt-collecting. My wallet bulges with the five-year old receipts I still have saved. Will I, too, be forced to buy a man purse? Will my receipt clinginess damn me to man-pursedom? Only time will tell.