Reduce-Reuse-Recharge

The Bag Lady, who has earned her title by being the most profilic sewer of sacks, had already turned everything she could get her hands on into a tote of one kind or another. So all that was left to turn into a bag was another bag. When she spied a large, colorful and sturdy-looking one containing dog food at a sibling's house she requested that it be saved for her.

When eventually she had the bag in her possession she scrubbed it inside and out, (she says she may still have dogs following her down the street on warm days - the smell of kibble lingers in the seams despite her deodorizing efforts) added strong straps and lined it with a festive plaid.

Then she did what any sensible reduce-reuse-recycler would do and added it to her stable of green grocery bags. On its very first outing to the supermarket it did its job of being both useful and an excellent conversation starter at the check out lane. The clerk passed it to the bag boy as she rang up a nickel bag credit, he loaded it with the Bag Lady's few groceries, and still chatting away with the store personnel, she paid the bill.

It was only when she started to exit the store that she realized the grocery tab was a bit steep for her dozen eggs, gallon of milk, and loaf of bread. Out came the receipt from where, in her preoccupation of thinking about other found materials she could turn into clever market totes, it had been hastily stuffed. Yes indeed, the total was highly inflated. She had been charged $21.48 plus tax for her own satchel as it passed over the too efficient scanner.

An explanation and a good laugh at the service counter led to a quick refund of the overcharge. The Bag Lady is all for helping out in her own way, but she is not so keen on single-handedly stimulating the economy by making imaginary purchases. From now on when the fetching tote leaves the house it will be wearing a muzzle of painters' tape over the barkcode.