Living With The Cart Curse…

 

 

 

 

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I am not a fan of shopping, of any type, I usually only go food shopping when the situation is critical and hunger pains force me to take action. I have many reasons as to why I dislike shopping as much as I do, but there is one reason in particular that causes me the most anxiety. I have a “Cart Curse”..I am almost positive that an ex..who was a self-confessed witch placed it on me.

If your unfamiliar with what a “Cart Curse” is then let me explain it to you..It doesn’t matter what store I choose to shop at, I am guaranteed that my cart will be the only cart in the store that acts as though it’s possessed. Usually it is as simple as a wheel that started off fine but then somehow gets jammed and it happens only once I have a full cart of goods. It’s amazing how one little wheel can cause so much turmoil. Once the wheel goes bad I usually end up ramming into other shoppers or rubbing against the display cases the whole time. I can only assume that there is a rotting mouse or something else as equally horrible jammed in the mechanisms when this happens.

And then other times my cart will be running fine and then suddenly veer off to one side or the other, this can be a major concern for someone like me who likes to push my cart as fast as I can in order to get out of the store as quickly as possible. Once I had a cart do this to me and I was walking in circles for ten minutes before I realized what was going on..Yeah I can be a bit absent minded at times.

And I’ve even had a cart flip over on its side once, fully loaded, to this day I have no idea how it happened.

I know for a fact that I am “Cart Cursed” because I watch other people while I’m shopping, looking for signs that perhaps I’m not alone, maybe there are other’s out there who suffer the same fate. But as I walk down each aisle, glaring down other customers and their perfect little carts while mine is acting like the car in “Carrie” I try to act like it doesn’t bother me, I don’t want the other shoppers to make fun of me. It’s sort of like when the fat kid gets picked last for kickball and has to act like he is totally cool with it.

People give me the nastiest of looks as my cart hobbles down the aisle , treating me like I’m a Leper, they lurch away as if I might get my filth on them. I give them my sad face, I plead for an unspoken understanding with my large puppy dog eyes and light whimpers, but to no avail. The world is full of cart snobs, and I am left with the understanding that this fact will never change and more importantly that I will never choose a cart good enough to be invited into their snob cart circle.

I can only dream of a day when people will not judge me by my broken cart, but by the food that is contained within. I have a dream that people won’t pay attention to the clanking sound my broken wheel makes and instead will pay attention to my smile or amazing muscles (kidding) As long as I’m dreaming big..I have a dream that some super-hot chick will see my gimpy ass cart and offer not only to pay for my groceries but to come over and heat up my corn dog for me..A fella can dream can’t he?

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