It's Not my Bag, Baby.


There's nothing more pressured than trying to open a new plastic bag with a queue of shoppers waiting behind you.

I may be exaggerating slightly; defusing a bomb might be a tiny bit more stressful. That said, wrestling with a plastic bag in front of an audience is definitely somewhere near the top of the list.

I find it particularly difficult when the cashier is watching me. They open plastic bags for a living. Not only that, but they see other people doing it day in and day out; most of them no doubt successfully.

Sometimes the cashier will give you a proverbial Get Out of Jail Free card and offer to pack your shopping for you. I never take them up on this. I’m far too proud. I’ll insist I’m fine – and then spend the next few minutes flailing helplessly amongst a pile of polythene.

It’s hardest when the bags are still attached to each other, which is usually the case at the self-service checkout. For some unfathomable reason, it’s easier to separate the plastic of two adjacent bags than it is to open a bag itself. Why is this?

(I might complete a thesis on the subject.)
 
My problem is, I always panic. When I’m in the comfort of my own home, it’s never been an issue. If I’m opening a new rubbish bag, for example, I always remember to wet my fingers first. For some reason I never think of this when I’m standing in a shop queue. Perhaps I should get a tattoo on the back of one hand to remind me.

The secret is to always carry your own pre-opened bags; this will save you from any unnecessary embarrassment. It’s also better for the environment.

Basically, that’s a win-win situation.

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