the agonies of randalls
Music: Alan Parsons Project: A Valid Path (2004)
Yesterday I thought I might go to the supermarket for a steak. I also decided to replenish my detergents, soaps, cache of spring water and soda, and other various items that require the use of a buggy. I very rarely shop with a buggy. I usually use a small basket that I carry on my arm. One reason I don't shop with a buggy is that they call it a "basket" in Austin. I hate hearing them ask, "do you need a basket" when I check out sometimes, especially when I do not need a buggy and used a basket to shop. The Easter Bunny uses a basket, not a buggy. I also do not like to use a buggy because most of the time it has a sticky wheel that wobbles and squeaks, the effect of which is like having a buggy with a siren on it that announces my immediate arrival to bystanders in the next isle.
Anyway, so, I go to my local supermarket one point five miles away, park in a surprisingly close spot, and procure a buggy (mostly to carry the spring water). I flipped up the kiddie leg-holes cover so that I could put items in the top mini-basket area without worrying about their falling through the kiddie leg-holes.
Now, contrary to the usual flow of shoppers who commence their shopping in produce, I go to the opposite side of the store and commence my shopping in the toiletries and pet food area. I need toothpaste first, so, using proper buggy etiquette I park my buggy at an end-cap of hot dog buns near the processed meats section at the end of the toiletries isle.
As an aside: people, if there is no reason to drive your buggy all the way down the interior of an aisle, then don't. You cannot fit more than one buggy down an isle and you cause traffic jams, risking someone's toes. Leave that massive buggy near where you are going, use your two goddamn hands, and return to your buggy with your booty. The sole exception for this are heavy items like spring water; grocers should make their heavy-item isles a little larger than most to accommodate more buggies.
Another aside: people, if you have more than two kids, or if you run a day-care center in your two bedroom apartment, there is absolutely no reason to bring your whole brood to the supermarket. No one enjoys your kids, and they mindlessly wander in the aisles and often without any sense of predictability.
After successfully parking my empty buggy near said end cap, I wandered up an aisle in search of laundry detergent and toothpaste. The toothpaste was on one side of the aisle, and the detergent, on the other. I got the toothpaste, then turned in the empty aisle to eyeball the detergent on sale. Out of the corner my eye, I spied a person rummaging through the buns on the end cap to my right. I turned to get a glimpse for some reason, feeling that slight pull of worry: what's she doing milling around my buggy? It was a short woman, just above five feet, but wide, with a moo-moo thing on that was orange striped. She wore glasses and had short, salt-and-pepper hair. She was breathing so heavy I could hear her from about fifteen feet away. She was in her sixties. She needed to exercise more. Anyway, I turned back to my task: Woolite Dark Colors or Cheer Dark? The difference in price was about 40 cents, but did they work the same? Probably. Probably made at the same soap factory, just with different labels. Do I have a coupon in my pocket for either? Nope. I had one for Tide, but not for the dark clothing detergents. Oh well, I guess I'll settle for the Tide HE Free. I grabbed my detergent and headed back to the cart.
The cart was gone. No cart. WTF? Where is my cart? I parked it here, and it's gone. Looking around, there was the squat moo-mooed lady ambling with a buggie toward the processed meats. Does she have my buggy? I looked: she had a buggy, but there were hotdog buns in it. The buggy was destined to soon have hotdogs in it. The kiddie-hole flap was turned up. Hmm. How many people do that to their buggies? I looked around: three other buggied shoppers, none with their flaps up. Damn! That bitch took my buggy. Oh well, better get another.
No, I thought. This is too polite. "Excuse me mam," I called. She turned, looking guilty. "Did you take a buggy that was parked here?" She then looked incredulous, muttered "no" while looking at the floor, and started to wheel away. Do I go wrestle the thing away from her? No, I caught her. If she wants to freakin' lie, let her. I headed to the grocers door, set my detergent and toothpaste on a floral display counter, went outside and got another buggy, came back into the store, picked up my soaps, and finished my shopping.