This is a tough admission to make, but I’m breaking up with my supermarket. In the past, our relationship was strong, vital and mutually beneficial. We’ve been going steady for about 25 years and I have the loyalty card to prove it. Loyalty cards are the retail versions of a ring.

But it’s not the same anymore. They’ve lost respect for me. I’m being taken for granted and being played for a fool. Once I had value; once I was made to feel essential and worthy both of time and attention. Now, apart from occasionally tossing me coupons spit out by an algorithm, my store no longer takes me the least bit seriously. I no longer feel welcome, even though its does now offer me a hand-sanitizing wipe as I enter the store.

Every breakup has two significant markers: There’s the moment when the split begins tearing at the seams of the relationship and there’s the moment when it’s ripped apart entirely. The first represents the underlying cause while the second represents the occasion.

The occasion leading to the breakup surrounds bagging. I’m not a fan of bagging. When I moved back to the U.S. after living in the U.K., one of the aspects of American life that made me want to cheer was the fact that our supermarkets don’t force shoppers to do their own heavy lifting. Instead, professionals packed all those bottles, cans and cartons deftly into bags for you. More here.

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