So I am at Walmart scanning and bagging my almost $300 worth of groceries while the employee that wants $15 an hour “monitors” and then this happened.
Her – why are you double bagging all of your groceries?
Me – excuse me?
Her – you are wasting our bags!
Me – if you don’t likе the way I’m bagging the groceries, feel free to come on over here and bag them yourself.
Her – that’s not my job!
Me – okay, then I will bag my groceries how I please if that’s all right with you.
Her – why are you using two bags?!
Me – because the bags are weak and I don’t want the handles to break or the bottoms to rip out.
Her – well that’s because you are putting too much stuff in the bag. If you took half of that stuff out and put it in a different bag then you wouldn’t need to double bag.
*10 seconds of me just staring at her.
Me – so you want me to split these items in half and put half of them in a different bag so that I don’t have to double bag.
Her – exactly.
Me – so I would still be using two bags to hold the same number of items.
Her – no because you wouldn’t be double bagging.
*me pressing two fingers to my left eye in an attempt to make it stop twitching.
Me – okay so here I have a jug of milk and a bottle of juice double bagged. If I take the milk out and remove the double bagging and just put the milk in the single bag and the juice in that single bag I’m still using two bags for these two items.
Her- no because you are not double bagging them so it’s not the same number of bags.
*me looking around at about 10 other customers who at this point are enjoying the show.
Me- is this likе that Common Core math stuff I keep hearing about?
Her- never mind you just don’t get it.
And with that, she went back to her little Podium so she could continue texting or playing games on her phone or whatever it was she was doing before she decided to come over and critique my bagging skiIIs.
Need a Pick-Me-Up? These Inspiring Stories Will Make Your Day Bright
Three people’s lives become connected through hope. From a boy’s lemonade stand to a grandmother’s special gift, see how acts of kindness and strong will can create life-changing results.
Life’s biggest changes often start with the smallest actions—a kind gesture, a cherished memory, or a simple dream pursued with effort. These three stories show how everyday moments can spark amazing transformations, reminding us that even in tough times, there is always a chance for light and hope.
Max’s Journey Home
Max had been living on the streets for as long as he could remember, though his memory wasn’t clear. His past was a blur, and all he had was the present: the cold pavement, the noise of the city, and a tattoo on his hand. This tattoo, with its intricate design, felt familiar but distant. It was the only connection to a life he had lost.
Despite his hard circumstances, Max never gave up. Each day, he wandered around asking people if they had any small jobs he could do. He wasn’t asking for charity, just work. “Anything you need? Just something for a meal,” he’d ask. Some people ignored him, others turned him away, but a few, noticing his sincerity, gave him jobs like sweeping or carrying groceries.
With the money he earned, Max bought clean clothes from thrift stores. Every Sunday, he made sure to look presentable enough to attend church. It wasn’t just about fitting in; it was about his faith. He believed that God hadn’t forgotten him.
One Sunday, something incredible happened. Max stood quietly in the back of the church as the priest began the service. Suddenly, a man in a sharp black suit walked in. His eyes landed on Max’s tattooed hand. The man’s expression changed to one of shock. He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the same tattoo on his own wrist. Rushing over to Max, the man said, “Max? Is that really you?”
Max looked up, confused. “Do I know you?”
The man smiled through tears. “Max, it’s me, Patrick! We went to school together. Remember our matching tattoos? We promised to stay friends.”
Max blinked, the name triggering a faint memory. “Patrick…” he murmured.
“That’s right!” Patrick replied. “We were like brothers. What happened to you? We lost touch after graduation.”
Max shook his head. “I don’t remember much. One day, I woke up, and everything was gone—my memory, my life. All I had was this tattoo.”
Patrick placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Well, that ends today. You’re coming with me. We’ll figure this out.”
Max hesitated, unsure. “I’ve been like this for so long. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Patrick reassured him, “Start by coming home with me. You can stay with me until we figure things out. And don’t worry—my company could use someone with your work ethic. We’ll find you a role.”
For the first time in years, Max felt hope. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course, Max. You’re family.”
After the service, Patrick took Max home. At Patrick’s apartment, Max was overwhelmed by the warmth and comfort. Patrick gave him fresh clothes and told him, “Take a shower, get cleaned up. Tomorrow, we’ll see a doctor about your memory.”
Max nodded, deeply grateful. “Thank you, Patrick. I don’t know how to repay you.”
Patrick smiled. “Just get better, Max. That’s all I want.”
Over the next few weeks, Max slowly rebuilt his life with Patrick’s help. He started working at Patrick’s company, and as his memory returned, so did his confidence. One evening, as they sat together, Max finally said, “I remember now. I remember who I am.”
Patrick smiled. “Welcome back, Max. It’s good to have you home.”
Max nodded, tears of joy in his eyes. “It’s good to be home.”
And with that, Max knew he had truly found his way back.
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