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Trolley Rage

Published by JimmyHumbled in Life
October 15, 2008

A way to get back at those supermarket joyriders.

I have traveled all over the world and noticed an interesting phenomenon: trolleys are as unique as golf knickers. In America, the trolleys (”shopping carts”) are huge hulking things that, in accordance with the shopaholism that characterizes the nation, carry sufficient food to feed Mexico for a day, still with enough space leftover for two screaming brats (”Why does SHE get to sit on the left side? BUY ME CANDY!”) Thankfully, the average American shopper also has a vehicle that can fit the population of Mexico, so getting these groceries bought on a credit card home is not a problem.

I’ve also noticed that each culture’s citizens drive their trolleys roughly mimicking road etiquette; it’s like an unspoken rule, like standing to one side of the escalator so others can pass. I would like to make a note of this because I know that some of you did not hear me: MOVE TO ONE SIDE SO THAT OTHERS MAY PASS. Say it out loud to yourself right now…no, you know what? WRITE IT DOWN and carry it with you at all times. Because in conversation, everyone pretends to be a decent person with regular person etiquette…they’ll TELL you, should you ask, that they wash their linens on Sundays and use their napkin like a regular person, and that of course they give way to those who wish to pass whether it’s on the thoroughfare or at the Tesco. But you’ll find that there are these people among us that, when no one they know is around, feel that rules no longer apply to them. They, as they must reason, are SPECIAL, in a hurry, not in a hurry, whatever it is that they tell themselves so that they can look themselves in a mirror and not wish to beat themselves with a coconut until the second conk in the head reforms their behaviour. Because surely they SEE me, and the rest of the world which at this moment is all lined up in aisle five, waiting to pass their trolley which is largely sideways as they scrutinize the packaging colours and ponder why yoghurt is available in various styles of jiggliness. I mean, surely we don’t need a system of traffic lights and police in the store, just to right these infractions…surely we as civilized human beings can MOVE OUR TROLLEYS AND LET ME PASS.

OH, and now you give me the stink-eye when I scoot your cart out of the way???

Those who have suffered at the helm of sleepy trolleys, join me in ending this behavior: next time you see an extreme violator, visit the personal products aisle, find the most embarrassing example, and bury it in the offender’s cart. (Don’t worry, she’s asleep at the wheel, she won’t even notice.)

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