Sign of the times
When we first moved to L.A. from Brooklyn, NY eleven years ago, the first thing that impressed me was how civilized supermarkets here were.
Back in my old nabe, people waiting to check out stood closer to you than my proctologist. I've had my ankles clipped by the shopping cart behind me so many times.
Oh and how can I forget the endless sighs because I wasn't unloading my Cracklin' Oat Bran fast enough. This almost always ended with the person behind me grabbing that ratty separator bar and slamming it down to further exhibit their impatience and make sure their cheese-covered cheese didn't touch my stuff.
Imagine my complete surprise to see this sign in my supermarket:
Although it does look like they need another sign to keep people far enough away to not crush that sign, doesn't it?