The Pot and The Kettle

I will confess; I often love grocery shopping. Is it all those products in one place? The convenience of it all? Am I enjoying capitalism at work? Maybe I am having a Don DeLillo White Noise moment? Well, that last one, maybe. But I actually find it somewhat relaxing, pacing the aisles, seeing the wealth of available products and delicacies I may want to try. However, that is only when the store is somewhat or entirely empty. With actual people in the store with me, I usually leave seething with anger or entirely disillusioned and broken.
Why? A sane person may want to know. In a nutshell, I find the behavior displayed by the majority of people at ShopRite amazingly selfish, indicative of some serious sloth issues, and bordering on destructive. I know I exaggerate (sometimes), but not here.

The seafood counter is consistently mayhem, and a good spot to learn how to cut a line with a conveniently placed shopping cart. I once saw a horrible father ignoring his obnoxious son, badly juggling some otherwise nice plum tomatoes. People who refuse to even begin unloading their cart or basket onto the conveyor belt without that precious divider honestly annoy me to pieces. And I foolishly once told the Pot that I hate, yes hate! those self-centered schlubs who break apart bunches of bananas. And yes, I do hate them.

My latest pet peeve...The morons, who oblivous to the existence of fellow shoppers, leave their shopping carts haphazardly strewn in the aisle, so that no one can pass. This most commonly happens in the entirely pleasant cereal aisle, so there are some whiny kids jumping around as well. This just occurred to me today. Carts everywhere...some lost fools who have to stand in the middle of the aisle and take a look at the big picture of boxes in order to find their Frosted Lucky Charms... you get the idea. There was nary room to pass. Then, eureeka! An opening! A slight passage through a sea of carts. I had to take it. Then I saw her, an elderly woman at the end of my safe passage through. She was going to steal it. Gentleman that I am, I was immediately dejected. I couldn't stoop so low to make her wait for me. But then, she did the most amazing thing ever. She waved me through and in a Sophia Petrillo-esque squawk announced, "Break on through there, kiddo!" I loved it. I giggled. And when I met her on the other side, she congratulated me a hearty slap on the back. I giggled more. She was a true scamp, and I hope we see each other again.

The rest of my shopping experience was a delight, as I was on top of the world and in love with mankind. I was warmed and reminded of the amazing Dr. Albanese, who often calls me kiddo.

Then I left the store and walked into a disheartening mess of shopping carts because people cannot be bothered to walk the ten to twenty steps to return their cart to the proper (and well-labelled) cart drop-off.