The microwave dings. I stand next to a high-traffic Employees Only door, sipping my shot glass-sized cup of free coffee, while middle-aged women politely smash their shopping carts into each other to line up for the latest round of free sweet potato home fries samples. The girl behind the samples counter can’t keep up with the snack demands of the weekend crowd. The microwave dings. I crush my body into a floor display to get out of the way of shoppers and employees. Everyone is so polite here. They’re going to kill me. We share the same values. The microwave dings. I swear I’ll bring a reusable bag next time.