I realize that I write about grocery shopping a lot.
The reason for that is because a) I’m at the store a few times a week and b) I am an astute observer of human behavior and notice things others might not—like little kids sticking green beans up their noses and putting them back in the pile, old men in sweatpants suggestively fondling cucumbers, checkout belt divider creepers, etc.
Perhaps I need a new hobby, but then again, perhaps I just need my fresh produce and will sacrifice my sanity to bring home the broccoli.
At any rate, my latest public declaration is that there are two kinds of people in this world: 1) those who return carts to the cart corral and 2) a-holes.
“Go to your home! Are you too good for your home?” (Bonus points if you get this reference.)
Disclaimer: This observation excludes parents who might not want to leave their kids alone in the car to return the cart. I don’t want to piss anyone off again. For that reason, you’re excused.
But with that said, anyone else who refuses to return the cart to it’s home deserves to purchase and eat the boogery beans mentioned above.
Because shopping carts are provided for the convenience of customers. Cart corrals are provided for the specific purpose of controlling the carts so they don’t roam free in the parking lot, creating an inconvenience that cancels out the aforementioned cart convenience.
These cart corrals are clearly marked and not hidden in some cart corral cave accessible only through a series of security measures and secret handshakes, and a shopping cart left to run amok can cause a great deal of damage and injury.
When it’s windy, they blow around and are magnetically drawn to parked cars and elderly women who unknowingly take on the role of human bowling pins as they shuffle up to the doors to pick up their cat food and butterscotch candies.
Let’s also mention that leaving a cart to find it’s own way home often results in the cart camping out in a parking spot, a parking spot someone (ahem) will inevitably pull halfway into before realizing the cart is there and angrily backing out, pissing off people behind them.
It’s a vicious cycle.
The fact is that carts cannot be trusted to return themselves to the cart corral. It takes a firm hand, determination and perhaps a few extra steps to see to it that they are put back where they belong. Before you know it, the cart jockey will come out with his little electric cart-picker-upper and round them all up to take back.
And while I hate to give out my secrets, I’ll share a trick of the trade—park next to a cart corral.
This serves a couple of purposes, one being the fact that it’s convenient to return your cart immediately upon shopping completion. But if you’re anything like me and often find yourself wandering around the parking lot pretending you meant to walk up and down every aisle before settling back to your car, parking by a cart corral at least narrows down the options of where your car actually is.
But the bottom line is the carts have a home. Help them find their home or be cast as a cart corral corruptor and feel much shame.
And for god’s sake, wash your produce.
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