I took a break from posting, and I’m not going to do that thing where I apologize for being gone so long because oh my god, even I don’t care.
I want to tell you about this lady we saw at Target a little while back. Remember how I’ve talked about putting carts back and all of that, and how just about everyone said that they do indeed put their cart away? I suspect that anyone who doesn’t put their cart away knows that they’re kind of a wang and thus wouldn’t comment, but I am going to go ahead and make the good faith assumption that we are all cart putter away-ers.
So Phil and I were at Target a few weeks ago, and you’re going to have to pretend we’re all sitting at a cocktail party or something, and I’m telling this story in a really engaging way, and I grab a cocktail napkin and pencil to sketch this out for you. You’re going to have to imagine the sketch. Because I don’t really feel like sketching.
So here I go. I’m really engaging, and I’m sketching, and you’re all gathered around trying to see my sketch and hear my engaging story.
Now that the scene for scene setting is set, let me set the actual scene. So we’re at Target, and we drive into the parking lot, like you do, and choose our aisle. You know, you decide which one you’re going to drive up and hope there’s a spot. We entered the aisle at the end closest to the store, and just a little way up, before one of those cement-enclosed grass areas that are in parking lots for some reason, that kind of separate off the first parking section from the next parking section, as if to illustrate with engineered terraforming just how good or bad of a spot you’re getting, there was a spot. Right next to that divider, so we’d be in the first section. An indisputable good spot.
So we’re just about to pull into it, and slow down to let a lady pass. She was walking her empty cart up the aisle from her car. And do you know what she did? She shoved her cart into the spot. And walked away. We’re sitting there, kindly allowing her to pass, as we assumed she would have to to get to the cart return, and instead of passing, she just shoved her cart into the spot and walked away, with this weird kind of barely noticeable shrug that indicated that she knew exactly how big of a wang she was.
So Phil threw up his hands at her, in the universal You’re a Total Fuckwad gesture, and we pulled forward, because there was another visible spot in the clearly secondary parking section, but that doesn’t bother us too much because WALKING TEN EXTRA FEET IS OK.
As we walked toward the store, I pointed out incredulously that the cart return was just about THREE SPOTS further up than where she had ditched her cart. We also watched one or two other people try to pull into the spot and drive off in annoyance. As we walked closer, even worse, I noticed a cart return DIRECTLY ACROSS THE AISLE from the spot into which she had abandoned her empty cart, which had surely formerly contained Cream of Bitchface, a couple of bottles of Inconsiderate Buttface supplements and probably some kind of stick for poking kittens or something.
Now, Phil, being a decent human being and also not above a little Screw You Action himself, walked across the lot and shoved the cart into a proper cart receptacle, just as the lady was driving by in her car to exit the parking lot. He yelled something about how she was a barnacle on the ass of polite society, or something like that, but she didn’t notice.
Do you know why?
Because she was texting. While driving. In a crowded parking lot.
Not only is this woman an inconsiderate non-cart replacing hose beast, but she is also a TEXTER-WHILE-DRIVING-ER. While shoving your cart into a parking spot that someone else is clearly about to take, a spot that is less than FIFTEEN FEET from a proper cart location, requires a certain kind of self-centered arrogance, texting while driving combines an unbelievably ridiculous confidence in your own driving, completely unfounded faith in everyone around you to stay in their lane or not dart into the street or not accidentally slip into diabetic shock while driving, and also a delusional belief in your own ability to exhibit superhuman reaction time and reflexes when you do look up from the screen of your phone.
This story doesn’t have a point except to let you know that this lady is OUT THERE. And she is taking your parking spots and potentially mowing down your Target-bound family, secure in her belief that she is more important than EVERYBODY EVER.
And you should LOOK OUT.