Driving One to Drink
Those of us lucky enough to live in Pennsylvania have learned to adapt to the -- how to put this delicately -- inefficiencies of the state-controlled system of wine and liquor sales. I had pretty much become immune to the limited selection, 25 percent tax, and employees who care as much about being helpful as President Bush does about the Fourth Amendment. Until yesterday, however, I had no idea how good I had it.
So I walk into the state store closest to where I live in Center City Philadelphia. I buy some vodka and several bottles of wine (I was, uh, shopping for a friend). The employee at the register scans the bottles, places them in two large brown bags, and then looks at me when I don't immediately pick them up.
"Could you please put them into plastic bags so that I can carry them," I ask, referring to the types of bags used at supermarkets, food stores, etc.
"I don't have any," she said.
"Oh. Maybe there are some over there, " I suggest, helpfully pointing to the register a few feet away.
"We don't have any in the whole store," she replied. "We ran out. We might get some later today."
When I expressed some surprise to the two managers standing in the nearby office and asked how it was possible that a store could run out of plastic bags, given that they cost almost nothing, and come in boxes of about a billion, one of them replied: "We just work here. You'll have to talk to (Governor) Rendell." I will spare you the details, but let's just say things deteriorated from there, although in retrospect maybe I shouldn't have mentioned FEMA. It wasn't fair to the FEMA people.
How incompetent are these people? Well, in addition to not noticing when they were down to their last thousand or so bags, once they ran out it appears not to have occurred to anyone to go to one of the other state stores in Center City (one is no more than a five-minute walk from the store I was in) and get a supply of bags. I guess common sense is not part of their job description.
So I walk into the state store closest to where I live in Center City Philadelphia. I buy some vodka and several bottles of wine (I was, uh, shopping for a friend). The employee at the register scans the bottles, places them in two large brown bags, and then looks at me when I don't immediately pick them up.
"Could you please put them into plastic bags so that I can carry them," I ask, referring to the types of bags used at supermarkets, food stores, etc.
"I don't have any," she said.
"Oh. Maybe there are some over there, " I suggest, helpfully pointing to the register a few feet away.
"We don't have any in the whole store," she replied. "We ran out. We might get some later today."
When I expressed some surprise to the two managers standing in the nearby office and asked how it was possible that a store could run out of plastic bags, given that they cost almost nothing, and come in boxes of about a billion, one of them replied: "We just work here. You'll have to talk to (Governor) Rendell." I will spare you the details, but let's just say things deteriorated from there, although in retrospect maybe I shouldn't have mentioned FEMA. It wasn't fair to the FEMA people.
How incompetent are these people? Well, in addition to not noticing when they were down to their last thousand or so bags, once they ran out it appears not to have occurred to anyone to go to one of the other state stores in Center City (one is no more than a five-minute walk from the store I was in) and get a supply of bags. I guess common sense is not part of their job description.
posted by FCB at 4:18 PM
1 Comments:
Unbelievable. Last week, far from Center City at a state store I bought two bottles of wine. At checkout was told they had no bags, plastic or paper. There must be a conspircey to cornor the bag market. Was offered a large box and had to fight to get a small box. This was late in the afternoon. When asked when they ran out of bags, was told "yesterday AM". Time for one of those union commercials telling us how great it is to not have a private system. Let's bring back prohibition. TKOP
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