We are taking a time out from Throwback Thursday to blow off a little steam. It has been a long week. Nothing awful, just a lot of balls in the air at once … and I’m a fairly crappy juggler. At times like this, it often helps to let my Inner Curmudgeon out of the basement (where I keep him so he won’t get me into trouble) to rant about one of our many pet peeves. Today, I took a break from work to drive to the local market to pick up a sandwich for lunch. As I turned into an excellent parking spot, there was a shopping cart right in the middle of the space. No, not halfway up on the grass divider where it can’t roll or even against the curb. Right in the middle.
This particular market is in a strip mall that is eternally busy because it is the only one on the hill leading up to our neighborhood. We live in a Lexus-BMW-Mercedes neighborhood that has recently graduated to Maseratis because of new dealership at the bottom of the hill. Everyone is always in a hurry on the hill because, you see, everyone is more important than everyone else. But I risked my car’s rear bumper by stopping to move the cart so I could park, then took it to the shopping cart chute. As they say in the Geico ads, When you are thoughtful old goat, that’s what you do. There are several chutes in each row, so I would guess no matter where your car is parked, the walk can’t be more than 20 yards to properly park your cart so it won’t block other people, or worse, roll into another car. Believe me, I know about that. Some years ago, my wife, Muri, had an Audi that was a virtual shopping cart magnet. Carts would roll uphill to dent her doors and fenders.
Here’s the worst part. My Inner Curmudgeon and I watch these people. They show up in running shorts and workout clothes. They have Run 26.2 Miles and I’d Rather Be Playing Tennis license plate frames. They look like they keep themselves in shape and while I’m buying a double meat sub, they are preparing mini-salads at the self-service salad bar. But they can’t walk 20 yards to put away a cart. They will, by the way, also wait twenty minutes for someone to pull out of a parking place in the front row. So the moral of this little rant is this: Get over yourselves people and properly stow your shopping carts. It’s good for you. Besides, if you don’t, one of these days, you’re you’re going to come out to find a cart has made intimate friends with your luxury vehicle’s door. I’ll tell you in advance, Older Eyes and IC had nothing to do with it.