'I don’t believe in reincarnation. At least not in the typical, literal, “I was Cleopatra in a past life and that’s why I’m afraid of snakes and think guys named Anthony are hot” kind of way. But sometimes things happen that seem to come from past life mistakes, bad karma that I feel pretty certain doesn’t come from something horrible I did in this lifetime.'I have never been mean to a shopping cart. I am, in fact, quite kind to them, moving them out of the dangerous places other careless shoppers have left them, corralling them into safer areas or even shepherding them back into the store with me. But this week seems to be karmically linked to some past life’s offense, some previous June when I, in the guise of a burly 1950’s man angry about my wife not doing the week’s shopping, took my frustration at being unable to find the pasta sauce out on some poor, unsuspecting shopping cart. Or something like that.
'It happened in Home Depot. My subconscious must have seen it coming since, despite my long shopping list, I tried not to get a cart. When my hands became full of paintbrushes and sandpaper, I realized my mistake. But, with my hands full, I couldn’t walk back out to the carts on the other side of the cashiers, so I found one left in the lawn and garden department, not thinking about the myriad reasons why the cart might have been abandoned. For example, one of the wheels might actually be a square.
'I should have stopped after pushing it the first five feet and making such a racket that three different men turned around and looked at me with a combination of confusion and pity. Tha-THUNK-tha-THUNK-tha-THUNK. If I went slowly, the THUNK was so forceful that the vibration through the cart moved my whole body. But when I had to walk over to the lumber section, the flattened wheel really shined. At speed it was a THUNKing, jostling masterpiece. It’s impossible to find someone to help you at Home Depot, but I must have had seven different people in orange aprons ask me if I was okay. It was probably the noise that brought them out, but it might also have been the look on my face. I can only assume that it revealed how hard I was working to keep the cart heading straight down the aisle, because it was at higher speed that the cart also showed its tendency to turn right. Only right. Really hard to the right, like some kind of suicidal run at the various displays of nails and doors and chemicals of all sorts. I tried in vain to arrange my list in an order that would allow me to only turn right, but that is NOT easy. I had to keep my right arm rigidly straight, getting such a workout that I almost dropped my bag at the checkout when I tried to put it back into my cart.
'I’m not even going to talk about the trip out to the car, consisting of a 20 mph wind and a large piece of plywood. Let’s just say that I am sorry for whatever I did to shopping carts in a past life, because, though I’m not clear on my belief in reincarnation, I have to believe in the power of forgiveness. Please forgive me, oh shopping cart gods, for I need your good will! I will be kind and, now, having learned my lesson, will endeavor to find a doctor for your less fortunate brethren. All I ask is that you let me continue my shopping adventures free from the THUNKing, the pulling, and the frustration that can mar our otherwise wonderfully symbiotic relationship.
'Or something like that.'
6 comments:
OK, so I ALWAYS get the wonky cart! It sucks every freakin' time!!
Like you, karmically speaking, I deserve the best cart out there, as I cannot leave a stray cart in the parking lot and move them away from vehicles. I've even saved cars from being hit by demon shopping carts that are wind driven (or I've saved out of control carts from injuring themselves on the sides of car doors)!
I deserve a medal of honor for all of the running and saving I do!
Oh wait. Maybe that's it! Maybe shopping carts are like people. Some are motivated by integrity while others are of the devil. Maybe the evil carts search us out because we are particulary good people..
OR
Maybe all shopping carts want is to paint blue woad on their faces, yell the word 'FREEDOM!', and fight the good fight - to be free of the evil capitalist slave drivers (ie soccer moms who need to USE carts to carry all of their frozen corn dogs and pop tarts). Yes. It must be very demeaning for the sad, mistreated carts..
Or maybe we just suck at picking out shopping carts.
p.s. LOVE the story, Fougs!!! Thanks for being a guest 'columnist' on my blog. Please always contribute! You're a freakin' genius!
Last night at the grocery store I too had similar cart, not quite that bad, but it sure did make a lot of racket!!! Loved the story!!
I am sure you don't mind sharing your blog with Fougs but how cool would it be if she started one of her own!!
Thanks for sharing your story Fougs!!
Oh my word Ginger I was laughing so hard as I read that. No wonder you and Cliffy are friends he is a shopping cart saver too. He gets so angry if I don't put mine where they belong. You are hysterical girl. Thanks for the laught
You're durned straight! They have those "corrals" for a reason! I don't even think about it anymore. AAMOF, I will slow down my race to the store because i see that someone is almost finished with unloading their cart, so to prevent the almost assured negligence of the cart that they are using, I'll say, "Let me take that in for you." Or something else equally compassionate, (to the cart). The people ALWAYS let me take it, because they think that I'm being nice to them, but in reality, it's in the vain attempt to save the cart from yet another humiliating stint on the island in front of the parking spots, or the "mini-herd" that always seems to congregate at the handicapped spots. Poor, poor carts. I'm sure that all my good work is not unnoticed & that one day I will bask in the glory of the "Almighty Shopping Cart in the Sky". Until then, until then...
Kudos to you Cliff, you keep of the carts. Surely you will be rewarded.
I have never understood why people can't put them where the carts belong. Those extra 5 steps, watch out, they might just kill ya! Geez. It's polite, and ensures there are no runaway carts to stray from the pack and ding an innocent car!
Still, the story is stinking hilarious.
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