Day 251: 400 Words About Shopping Carts
Oh nice, it’s Thursday again. Time to creep somebody out by asking them to name a number and an object! This weeks prompt came from a co-worker, who had no idea what was going on and never will. He chose to write 400 words about shopping carts. I almost went and asked someone else, but I’m a man of my word. You would think that I’d have a lot to say about shopping carts, but they’re actually the bane of my existence. I am completely unable to operate them properly. Here’s 400 words about it!
My shopping cart ineptitude started at a really early age, as one would expect. Even with the “shopper in training” miniature carts, I would still crash them into everything in sight. When it got to a point that I was tall enough to see over a cart but still couldn’t navigate it, we knew that something was wrong. There was just some sort of block in my head that didn’t allow me to push carts freely. Doctors couldn’t figure it out. We also never asked doctors about it, but I’m sure if we did, they wouldn’t be able to figure it out. There I was, a normal, healthy, intelligent, handsome, witty child that was unable to push shopping carts or cast a fishing rod. My place in the universe had yet to be found.
My cart pushing ineptitude came to a head at the tender age of ten. It was a normal, unassuming Spring day in Owosso. Or maybe it was Corunna. I don’t know the town line. My Mom and I went to Wal-Mart to buy a few things. We loaded those few things into the car and then she gave me a dreadful mission. I had to put the cart away.
My mind quickly flashed through the possibilities. Of what could go wrong as I navigated this battering ram among moving objects that were worth more than my life. Instead of going through that trauma, I did what I thought was the right thing. I simply pushed the cart out into the open, away from all of the cars.
That was not the right thing.
Because the parking lot was on an incline.
And I watched in horror as the cart quickly picked up speed down the hill. It was aimed directly at an old Buick, with a lady smoking in the drivers seat. My whole life flashed before my eyes. I saw myself going to college, eating a sandwich, watching TV, everything. And somehow, through some sort of divine intervention, the cart just barely missed the Regal. Might’ve scratched the side, but we heard nothing. My mom was perplexed that I would do something so stupid. And frankly, so was I. Not wanting to be implicated in the attempted vehicleslaughter, we got into the car and sped off. She swore, in the angriest tone, that she’d never take me anywhere again.
We went shopping 4 hours later. Bluh.