Once, there were four reusable grocery bags. I’ve had ’em for years, but one’s lost in the rubble of my breathtakingly messy room, and another is almost lost — it’s visible, top of a pile, but there’s so much rubble between that bag and me, I’ll never reach it until the room’s cleaned up. Which won’t be soon, so for the practical purpose of going shopping, there are two grocery bags.

Unknown to me, one of those bags had slipped between the wall and the table, and lodged itself right next to my cat’s litter box. Couldn’t find that bag, and I didn’t think to look where the cat poops.

My once-weekly shopping trip requires two bags, but for months I made do with only one, plus my backpack, before finally spotting that bag and yanking it out. Hooray, I have two bags again! But anti-hooray, during its long stay beside the litter box, that bag had absorbed tremendous levels of stink.

The bag looks clean, and maybe it is clean, depending on your definition of that word. It’s not stained. It reeks, is all. I ought to toss it in the laundry, but laundry is underwear and pants and shirts and socks. I never remember the grocery bag.

And so, shopping with a stinking bag has become routine. The awful funk of it isn’t noticeable on the bus or in the shopping cart — at least, it’s not noticeable to me. While we’re standing at the cash register, you might wonder if you’ve stepped in something, but the stench isn’t much, by big city standards, unless you’re holding the bag when it’s opened.

That’s a moment I’ve begun looking forward to, and today’s shopping trip did not disappoint. The cashier and bagger were both very efficient, doing their jobs, and I ought to feel awful. They’re working stiffs, and I know how horrid that can be.

But this has been happening for a month now, and it was all I could do to keep from giggling in anticipation. The kid opened both bags, started stacking my stuff inside ’em, and then he winced, then shivered and stopped and said, “Whoa!” Then he continued, making a face but without another word, at least until I was gone.

Yeah, I might never remember to toss that bag in the laundry.

5/18/2025

itsdougholland.com
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