Not Bread For This Job

I’m shopping for the month, and so have a lot of items that keep me pretty busy unloading the cart at the end of the conveyor belt. The register clerk must have been bored, and starts making a lot of small talk, asking questions about every other product. She’s never tried this shampoo, is it good? She didn’t even know they carried this brand of soda, and so on. I’m so distracted by her, I don’t remember to keep an eye on the bagger at the far end of the counter.

I get home to unpack and find all my canned goods and a couple of jars of spaghetti sauce were placed on top of the bread, which is now flat as pancakes.