I bought a chicken at the megalomart on Sunday.
The cashier asked me if I wanted the bird in a plastic bag, to which I replied, “Yes.”
The poultry at this and many other megalomarts in Australia is prone to leaking, and while I use reusable bags, I don’t want chicken blood all over them. And I wash them like Chapman says.
The woman behind had brought her own cooler bag (commonly known here as an Esky, as in short for Eskimo, to which I usually say, they’re Inuit, and isn’t that a bit racist?), and when asked if she wanted her bird in a plastic bag, replied, “Oh no, I’ve got my Esky. It’s fine.”
A bloody cooler bag isn’t cool.