And really, there were signs, if I'd been paying attention. The woman in front of me managed to arrange herself and her cart so that, even though there was plenty of space on the conveyor belt, there was no way for me to actually reach it to put down my basket. A lack of awareness, perhaps? Really, she was too busy commenting on every item that the man in front of her had chosen, as the checker rang it in. "Oh, you are a wise man. That is a very healthy choice." At first I thought that perhaps they knew each other, but he gradually became less and less responsive to the running commentary, and fled as soon as he could.
Then it was her turn. Each item was passed through the bar code scanner and set aside to bag, except for the milk. KWF carries raw milk from local dairies, and this stuff does not come with bar codes. The checker keyed in the amount and then set the milk to the side.
"Thank you!" exclaimed the woman. "Thank you for not radiating my milk. Not everything needs radiating, you know."
Then she was gone (after some lengthy confusion with the credit card machine), and it was my turn.
"Did she really thank you for not radiating the milk?"
The checker nodded, wide-eyed, and then shrugged.
"Ok. Just making sure I heard right."
I'm not worried. She'll get all the radiation she deserves from the big slab of beef she bought.