...that motorized jazzy cart thingie in the grocery store. Just once.
I'm on Day 10 of the flare where I get dizzy when I look to the left in any capacity.
Went to get my groceries and was dismayed to find that none of my little carts were available. You know what THAT means. Ginormous cart, herein referred to as "G-Cart". It was taunting me a la Friday The 13th..."ch ch ch ch ch...hah hah hah hah hah". Alright, G-cart. Let's get it on!
I wrestled the hell out of that cart all the way around the store, throwing eye flare caution to the wind, shopping both right AND left sides of the aisles, skidding sideways around corners, knowing I had just a small amount of energy remaining for check out! I got overconfident, borderline careless. I decided to teach it a lesson. I dared to move to the front of it and pull it about by its basket! WHO'S YER DADDY NOW, G-CART!
Wait, what? I feel like I'm forgetting something. O M and G. The 2 cases of bottled water? Aw man. But they're all the way...over...THERE??? (looking clear across the store, becoming dizzy. Thank you, Day 10 of eye flare). Well, I gotta have 'em. Otherwise, I'll face my husband and have to hear him say, "hon, you GOTTA take the list with you...INSIDE THE STORE!" To which I say, "Hey! You're not the boss of me!"
Alright, I got this.
G-Cart and I made the trek to the next zip code to retrieve and manhandle 2 cases of 35 count bottled water. But this time, I was fully engulfed in a double elbow lean.
Next...check out. Load items on belt and pray that gum cracking teens can be bothered enough to bag. No? Oh it's alright, sweetie...let me do it. You're too pretty to work. I gotta double bag anyway. You'll see why later. Following are the remaining steps of my grocery-izing.
- write my check. Handwriting at this point is a series of scratch marks on paper.
- fumble for driver's license with now spasming fingers.
- push G-Cart, which now feels like a tourbus, to the car and unload it.
- drive home without looking to my left.
- drag bags up stone walkway and into house (thus the double bagging)
- put items away
- collapse into overstuffed furniture
With all of this effort and exhaustion, you'd surely wonder to yourself, "why doesn't she just ask her husband to do it?" That's easy. Pride!
Strongly considering the motorized cart thingie. Though I fear I'd experience road rage and pummel the center aisle shopper. You know the one, she's got all day to be there and won't let you by? You don't want to excuse yourself around her, because she should just KNOW that she doesn't BELONG in the MIDDLE! Hey Muffin, commit to a side. K? Yeah, she'd be wondering what hit her.
That was kinda fun to blog about:-) The grocery store is like an athletic event for me. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose...but I ALWAYS have a good time!
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