You and your milk

Did you know that I'm on a one woman campaign to drive the cafeteria staff at my office crazy? Well, I am. My cunning plan is to destroy their sanity by ordering a carton of milk every day, and nothing else.



Oh, I know it's not much of a plan. It's just a little thing. But you know, sometimes you don't have to do very much to accomplish great results. First the cafeteria, then my office, then the world. As we don't have a radio station to take over, I suppose I'll have to commandeer the P.A. system.



But for now, I'm stuck in phase one. Every day, rain or shine, I go down to the cafeteria, take a carton of skim milk out of the freezer, plunk down 79 cents and go on my merry way. Or would do so, if it weren't for the fact that in addition to the aforementioned 79 cents, each and every carton of milk apparently also costs a conversation. It's the same conversation, and I have it every day.



CASHIER: "Just the milk?"



ME: "Yes. Just the milk."



CASHIER: (Shaking head sadly.) "You and your milk. Don't you eat anything else?"



ME: "Yes. I do. I bring my lunch from home. But I can't bring the milk, you see."



CASHIER: "I don't believe you. How much do you weigh?"



ME: "About a buck twenty-five."



CASHIER: "I don't believe you. What size are your pants?"



ME: "Small."



CASHIER: (Shaking head sadly.) "You're so tiny."



ME: "My Mom smoked when she was pregnant. She didn't know. It was the '70s. There wasn't even any ultrasound yet. Oscar the Grouch was orange. It was a different world."



Okay, I didn't say that last part. But honestly. What am I supposed to say to them? What if I were fat? Would they be like, "Thank GOD you're only having that milk?"Grrr.