Okay, so the world didn’t end on Friday, December 21, 2012 (no surprise there), however, it was the Friday before Christmas…which, if you’re still shopping for presents, is a kind of apocalypse of a different sort. Which is where I found myself, not shopping for presents (I finished that last week), but for groceries…at Costco. A Costco at full-Xmas swarm, filled to capacity with frazzled humanity: traffic jams of shopping carts and people noshing on samples at nearly every aisle. And then, this happened…
To the woman with the iPhone plastered against her ear who screamed at me for bumping her with my shopping cart in an EXTREMELY crowded Costco on Friday:
Listen, I’ve been bumped many times but I’ve never gotten all hinky about it; if a store is CROWDED, it’s a given that there might be some unwanted contact. Heck, I’ve been poked by rolls of Christmas wrap and had carts backed up over my toes. Even my apology (and, hey, I rarely receive even a mumbled, “Sorry…” from shopping cart bumpers myself) didn’t placate you. You continued to scold me as if I’d deliberately assaulted you…like I’m some serial shopping cart rammer on the loose. And, you know, if you hadn’t been so absorbed in your phone conversation you wouldn’t have stopped short as another cart cut you off. You were so startled that you stopped abruptly, causing me to stop suddenly. Unfortunately, my cart was heavy and I couldn’t stop its forward motion sufficiently to keep the wheels from bumping against your heavily booted heels. Blame physics, not me. Sheesh. And, despite my apology, you kept yelling after me. What more should I have done to appease you? Should I have allowed to you to bump me in kind with your own shopping cart? Should I have lain prostrate upon the concrete floor and offered my back for fifty lashes? What?
Lady, if being nudged accidentally by a shopping cart inspires such over-the-top outrage in you, how sad. Think about those children massacred in Connecticut and the adults killed who tried to protect them. Shame on you for your skewed perspective and misplaced rage. How about being pissed about what happened in Connecticut? I’ll bet the parents of those murdered babies will never again sweat small stuff like having a shopping cart gently bump their rear ends. I know I never will. Shame on you.
I noticed that moments after yelling at me you resumed conversation on your iPhone as if nothing had happened. Gee, I hope the ‘incident ‘ didn’t leave you permanently scarred, you trivial bitch.