You know, back in the day I worked as a checker in a grocery store. Well, there was this one lady who would come through and buy 30 or 40 apples at a time and ask "don't bounce the apples" of the checker and the bagger. She was terrified that they would get bruised from being placed on the scale or on the conveyor belt. But she would cram that cartfull of apples in one or two plastic produce bags. You couldn't even pick one bag up to put them on the scale with all of the apples wobbling around, so you had to cradle that bag like a damn newborn, gently picking it up to weigh them, making sure those stupid apples wouldn't slide around and risk one getting bruised when you put them on the scale.
One time I weighed her apples and passed them back to the bagger, and the lady saw a little shake as the bag of apples went into the bag. ***** freaked, screaming "I SAID DON'T BOUNCE THE APPLES" before launching into this tirade about what sort of idiots worked at the grocery store. I felt so bad for that bagger. I mean, we were High School students working for like $5 an hour taking crap from the sort of people who were too dumb to put their freaking precious apples in the bag three or four at a time.
So screw you and your "oh, they don't treat my beer bottles right" attitude. You want to be such a snob that your bottles have to be cradled across the scanner with velvet gloved hands? Bring your own gloves and ring them up yourself. Then put them in your car and turn the engine on to drive home. See how that rouses the yeast. So you can't stand to get drunk on three bombers of "mishandled" beers the same day you bought them? Suck it up and wait. There's going to be another Saturday night coming around in a whole week.
Until then bake yourself a pie with your unbounced apples, you picky freak.