Finding out that I can hate an inanimate object.

JERRY: Hey, I've been trying to jam stuff in the box like you told me, but sometimes it says, like, "Photographs - Do not bend".
NEWMAN: (Sarcastically) Do not bend! (Laughs evilly) Just crease, crumple, cram ... you'll do fine.

Sometimes when I go shopping, I forget my canvas bags, and you know how much I love my canvas bags. In those instances, I am forced to use the ... plastic. The cashier wants to use two, but I refuse, (pun) instead choosing to cram all of my items into one measly bag. She quizzed me on my distaste for waste:

ME: I forgot my canvas, and I can't stand these things. Don't get me started.

CASHIER: Go ahead, start.

ME: It won't be pretty, I assure you. It gets under my skin to see people wandering out of here with a cart-full of these bags.

CASHIER: I don't like them either, but people recycle them.

ME: They do?

CASHIER: Yes, there's a container outside and it's always full.

(ME THINKING: Maybe that's because they never empty it.)

ME TALKING: That really shouldn't be an option. I just don't like looking at them.

Sometimes, I'll spend another 99 cents and buy a new one. Since I already have ten of them, that habit needs to die a merciful death - like the plastic bag. And I wandered out with a plastic bag screaming at the seams, stuffed with cat food, dishwasher tablets and canned veggies.

Thank you, bag. I hate your petroleum-manufacured, landfill filling, brightly colored, wrinkly-noisy, seam-splitting guts.