In Atlanta, I bought one pack of mints at CVS. Total: $1.89.
The register began to print. It did not stop.
The paper flowed like a white ribbon, past the counter, pooling at my feet. Four feet. Six feet. Nine feet.
The cashier handed it to me with both hands, solemn as a monk:
BEHOLD. YOUR DECREE.
I carried the scroll home and hung it from the ceiling.
Coupons for diapers. Discounts on motor oil. A complete record of modern civilization.