Groovy, Man.

One of the interesting things about the store I work at, it's in an upper middle class area. That means we have all sorts of people with money coming through whose guilt about their affluence stands out like a sore thumb.

I was cashiering for a twenty-something little sprite, when she cheerily asked me if we had any paper bags, instead of plastic. When I told her no, the wrath of Mother Nature thundered down upon me. The air headed hippie wannabe bimbo lectured me about how paper bags were better for the environment.

Right -- as if I ran the company, and made all the bag purchasing decisions. Get out of my face, moron.

I wanted to ask this chick how much gas she saved by walking instead of driving her Beamer or Caddie, or how much animal habitat was destroyed when they laid the foundation for her huge upper middle class Northside house. Of course, I had no choice but to remain silent.

If the character "Cartman" from the T.V. show "Southpark" were real and standing next to me, he'd most likely say " @#$% off, ya damn hippie!" (Cartman hates hippies, and so do I.)