I SAID I DON'T WANT A PLASTIC BAG, WOMAN!!!

[what happened when I went to the butchers...]


I said I don't want a plastic bag, woman! What's wrong with you?

Yeah yeah I'd love me some chicken wings, but please please don't wrap it up like it's some EGYPTIAN MUMMY.

I mean, first you wrap it up with polythene & polystyrene so it won't fly away - (does it look pretty in polystyrene, er, no). And then upon my purchase, you put the polythene-&-polystyrene-wrapped chicken wings in a baby plastic bag – is that cute, no.

AND THEN finally, to finish off your masterpiece (because by now you've got a whole circle of customers marvelling at the ignorant genius that is you), you put the polythene-&-polystyrene-wrapped, baby-plastic-bagged chicken wings in ANOTHER plastic bag – no, this ain't a collection of Russian dolls, darling - you do not need to wrap & wrap & wrap it up like we're playing musical chairs. (Oh dear, you'd think the way you’re wrapping it up, it was poisoned. Hmmmm.)

And so I say to her, 'no plastic bag, please'.

And she says to me, 'if the wings aren’t in the 2nd plastic bag, yeah, security will think you nicked it.'

I'm like 'what planet is this woman on? (obviously not the one I'm doing my bit to save)'

And so I say, more firmly this time 'No, I don't want a plastic bag'.

(I mean, you'd think that PAYING FOR IT and HAVING THE RECEIPT would be enough.)


This is about to turn into a battle of wills – I reach into my bag for my SuperWoman outfit and my watch which sends people back in time to give them a chance to redeem themselves. I also reach into my bag for some water to parch my throat to prepare my voice to give her a good telling-to 'cos oh boy she ain't seen nothing yet - I am my mother's daughter, oh yes, siree, Nigerian through and through, I'm rolling up my SuperWoman sleeves now, I’m rolling them up - someone stop me 'cos I'm about ta, I'm about ta...

Oh wait. If I am my mother's daughter (for which I am), all I have to do is give her 'The Look' like my mother does.

And so I give her 'The Look', yeah, and say "Step away from the plastic bag".

The Look's got her all hypnotised. She steps away, eyes wide, lips trembling.

I, in my SuperWoman outfit, say: "Now repeat after me: Plastic is Tragic".

"Plastic is Tragic".

"I can't hear you".

"Plastic is Tragic".

"Again".

"Plastic is Tragic".

"AGAIN!".

"Plastic is Tragic".


"Now... if I EVER see you triple-wrapping my chicken or anybody's chicken for that matter, you, my dear, will spend the rest of your life... on a landfill site. GOT IT?"


She nods desperately.


And I. Fly out. Triumphant.