Bitter Sweet Beaucracy

What a girl wouldn't do for a bar of chocolate? In Chile, just about nothing. I walk into a store that seems to have a large selection of chocolate bars. I'd been satisfying that sweet tooth with sugary cakes and cheap cookies. All I wanted now was some semi-quality chocolate. I settle my eyes on a bar of bitter dark in some pretty wrapping (pretty wrapping = yummy chocolate?!?). I tell the woman behind the counter which one I want. Yes, for some reason these candy bars are behind a thick pane of glass. Why? Because thick paned glass = yummy chocolate?!? The woman then takes the chocolate bar to where? Well, I'm not quite sure at this moment and hands me a receipt. I look at her slightly perplexed and she, having probably recieved this look a billion times before, silently points to another woman on the other side of the store. I weave my way through the crowded store, reciept in hand to the ''other woman.'' She takes my reciept and then looks at ME slightly perplexed. Having recieved this look a billion times before in foreign countries, I do as always and start dishing out the dinero. Then the woman takes receipt#1, staples it to another reciept and hands it back to me. But where the heck is my candy? She then points me in the direction of a man waiting behind yet another thick pane of glass (and we already know what that means) who takes my reciepts and miraculously conjures up my chocolate. Chocolate bar in one hand and receipts in other he begins to compare the two. I think he was looking for that little Indian boy with a bow and arrow that indicates you've won a free Tootsie pop. Apparently he didn't win or after a good three minutes of scrutinization he concluded that these receipts do indeed correspond to the candy in hand. And just as he goes to bag my chocolate I almost begin to say the usual ''Oh I don't need a bag,'' but thankfully stop myself. Can you imagine how may receipts I would have to accumulate for the that request, not to mention it would have thrown the whole system out of whack. He finally hands me my chocolate, not to mention my reciepts, and sends me on my way. If you could trace my path in the store that day I imagine it would have looked something like the Star of David. But I had my chocolate and all the proof in the world that it was mine.