It was a very tasty Bakewell flapjack from a well-known High Street health food store, and it cost 69p. I was pleased when the assistant didn't offer me a carrier bag, or even ask me if I wanted one, because that would have been wholly unnecessary. But then she gave me something almost as offensive. My receipt.
[Bear with me, I'm going to ramp this up imminently]
My receipt was huge. It flopped out of my hand, all giant and white, like a bleached banknote. It must've been at least 25cm long, getting on for a foot, which is surely needlessly large for recording the purchase of a single item. I checked, and yes, the receipt was considerably larger than my flapjack. Its dimensions made me shudder, and sigh, and despair.
[See where I'm going now?]
What could possibly be so important that it needed to be printed out on my receipt to make it so long? An inch or two of blank space at the top, then the name of the company, and then (over four separate lines) the company's far-distant trading address. Then the branch and its telephone number, then the date and time of my purchase, and then a fifteen-digit receipt serial number. I discovered below that the cheery lady who'd served me was called Nicola (this information presumably so that if she'd been a moany old cow I could have rung up and complained with some hope of success). Next a completely over-the-top section detailing item codes, unit prices, VAT codes, prices with and without tax, a couple of blank lines, the number of items purchased, the total amount of sale (twice, on two separate lines), how I paid and what change I got. Phew. And finally, the name of the shop again, its not-very-witty strapline, a VAT reference and another gaping chasm of blank space. In amongst all of this, the name and cost of the single item I'd bought took up only a tiny fraction of the entire wasteful sheet.
[Ooh, I'm getting into the swing of this]
What a complete and utter waste of paper! My receipt was useful in only two ways. Firstly it prevented any store detective from arresting me on the two yard journey from the cash till to the store entrance. And secondly it provided me with all the information I'd have needed to make a stern complaint had I then bitten into my flapjack to find a roasted organic maggot. Admittedly the receipt might have had other more important uses had I been buying a year's supply of fish oil and glucosamine sulphate capsules, and needed something physical to convince my accountant of legitimate business expenses. But no, these 200 square centimetres of rainforest were destined only for the litter bin outside the shop (or maybe the recycling bin back home if I could be bothered). A quite unforgivable waste of the planet's resources, I'm sure you'll agree.
[Let's broaden the argument a bit]
And it's not just this one company that's to blame. The last time I was in Selfridges I emerged with an absolute whopper of a receipt for a single-item purchase. Nearly half of my latest HMV receipt is their logo. Waitrose use an unnecessarily large font size which increases the size of their receipts by over 10%. When I visit Tesco they now insist on churning out extra receipts with vouchers on, even petrol vouchers despite the fact that their computer must know I don't have a car. Sheer lunacy! High Street businesses are increasingly obsessed with printing out mega-receipts full of superfluous information, and it's got to stop.
[Now I'm going to draw a guilt-ridden (and slightly unhinged) conclusion, like environmental devotees often do]
Forget plastic bags - we need to start a campaign against gratuitous distribution of unnecessarily huge receipts. We live in a crazy world where retail giants insist on plastering their brand message all over a monstrous sheet of paper every time we buy something, whereas a tiny printed receipt would clearly suffice. Small is beautiful, but environmental shame lasts forever.
[And one final moment of eco-induced campaign madness]
Now is the time to start boycotting all stores and businesses that issue oversized receipts. How many trees must die before our obsession with excessive printed information destroys the planet? Next time a polar bear drowns on a melted glacier, or a child dies from starvation when the harvest fails, be sure to ask yourself "WAS MY PURCHASE TO BLAME?"
[Oh you may mock, but in ten years time the printing of large receipts will be as socially unacceptable as doling out plastic carrier bags at the till. They'll stick all receipts online, to be accessed from your credit card balance or bank account. Or they'll bluetooth receipts instantaneously to your mobile. Or else the world will end, you see if I'm wrong]
