As if I needed any more indications of how old I am, I have just discovered two more things that I “predate.” The first, warehouse shopping, is not so alarming. I remember fondly my first wide-eyed foray into a Sam’s Club–the astonishing array of giant-sized containers, the prices that made it cheaper to buy the full-on 5-gallon tub of Cheez Balls even if you knew you’d end up tossing half of them (though how you can discern when a Cheez Ball has gone bad is a mystery to me).
But it was more disconcerting to be perusing my grocery-store receipt the other day and have it flash into my mind that I remembered the first grocery store in our area to implement such itemized receipts. I remember being shown the UPC on the bottom of a box of crackers and being told what it was for. And I distinctly remember thinking, “Oh, I’m so sure! Like they’re going to put that ugly little computer thingie on every product they sell!”
Life before the barcode. I’m really feeling like a dinosaur now.
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