Instant Buggy Karma

Grocery Cart

So as I’m walking back to my car the other night, I see this young couple getting in their car. Dude gets in his side and their car cranks up. That’s when I notice he’s left the buggy right next to his car like myriads of other douchebags who can’t at least run it up on a nearby median or something. They finish with their groceries and don’t even bother to look around for the buggy corral.

I’m stopped about 15 feet from their bumper, and openly watching them. I’m watching because this guy has topped all the other douchebags who do this. He was too lazy to move the buggy away from his car. The car-buggy gap was only two inches. I was parked to the right of him, so I had an excuse for standing their waiting. Sure enough, when he starts to back up, his car slides against the buggy, which catches on the back door of his car and gets dragged a foot or two. He looks at me with a stupid ‘aww-shucks’ smile. “Shit,” he proclaims, in what I imagine is a daily mantra for him.

My first impulse, even in this situation, is to help. To grab the buggy for the idiot. And although I can’t be certain, I think for a split second he was thinking the same thing. Maybe this complete stranger will come take care of this for me if I wait long enough. I stand still and smile back at him. He stops the car, and since the buggy is now next to his door, he has to carefully edge out of the driver’s door so as not to scrape it on the buggy. I begin walking to my car now as he grabs the buggy and takes it to the corral that is, are you ready for this, in the parking space directly opposite him. I hold back when I start to shout “INSTANT BUGGY KARMA!”

He’s only one ladder rung away from the people who pour drinks out next to their cars. Sticky veneers of high-fructose corn syrup and caffeine just waiting to make every step I take though a store a duct-tape ripping noise. And those shmucks at the very bottom; people who leave diapers in the buggies. This is especially disturbing because you know the Walmart employees don’t do anything but pull it out with a stick or something. Then you wonder in and set little Sarah down in the turd buggy.

These are the same people that drop their screaming kids off at the three dollar movies for five hours on Saturday night. Whose houses burn down because their Christmas tree was still lying in the corner in March. Who pee on toilet seats. Who watch the same channel for six hours straight because they left the remote on top of the TV (Okay, I’ve done that, but only a couple of times. It’s not a habit.).

I’m so irritated by all this I can hardly think. I stand next to my car and take special care to aim my urine directly into the drain below, being careful not to splatter, then drive home, trying not to think about all the idiots in the world.

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