6 steps is a really long way to walk

SUMMARY HAIKU:
Bitch, the cart corral
is right there. Are you fucking
blind, or an idiot?


When it comes to everyday pleasures in life, few things are more fulfilling than having a kitchen full of groceries. Red grapes and flat iron steak and Honey Nut Cheerios. Yum. But getting the food from the store to the to the cupboard sucks.

Going to the grocery is one of my least favorite chores in the world, ranking about the same as mowing the lawn and cleaning the bathroom. For one, I know that I'm going to drop at least $100 every time I go to Kroger. Second, I never have time to shop during the week, so I always end up there on Saturday with every other human being on Earth. It takes forever.

Anyway, I was there today, loading my stuff into my car. The car that I love almost as much as my hubby and pets. The new car that I just bought in March. And this woman, who is parked across from me, puts her three little bags in her trunk. Then she wheels her cart in between the front of her car and my ride, leaving it to roll toward my dope-ass vehicle.

WE WERE PARKED RIGHT NEXT TO THE CART CORRAL! In fact, it probably took her more steps and more manuevering to walk it to the center than it would have to simply place it in the corral, which was about four steps from the back end of her car.

I know people leave carts whereever they want all the time, and they always strike me as lazy assholes. But I've never actually seen anyone who is parked so close to the receptacle go to so much trouble not to use it. Plus, she didn't even give a shit that the cart was rolling into my ride, even with me standing right there.

Is it really that hard to steer it to the proper area in order not to fuck up other people's vehicles? No matter where you are parked in a lot, they're never more than about 15 steps away.

In the end, the cart didn't scratch my dear Carlos, and I didn't say anything to her because I didn't want to seem like a crazy person. But I wanted to tell her she was, perhaps, the stupidest fucking person I'd ever seen, and that she was lucky I didn't break her legs. She just drove off, totally oblivious.

Luckily, my irritation was soon culled by a nice, fat bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I was going to save it for after dinner, but that's the benefit of having a house full of food. I could have another one later, if I wanted. And I did.