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Definately camped out in the ''miscellaneous ramblings'' category of life...
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Tuesday, January 20, 2009
It wasn’t long after I bought my new car years ago when I decided to stop off at a local store to pick up a few things. At the time, my car was pristine. I hadn’t even farted in it yet, and it had been several months already. Believe me, this was tough…there were a few uncomfortably long commutes I had endured during this time.
When I parked, I instinctively did so at the edge of the lot, well away from the Valley of Lost Carts. See, this lot had a big dip in the middle, and given that the average schlep who shopped in this neck of the woods couldn’t have a meaningful discussion with a head of cabbage, suffice to say that most people tended to leave their shopping carts wherever they felt like when they were done shopping. Parking your car in the dip area was like watching a huge magnet suck in every loose cart within a half-mile radius.
So imagine my, um, ‘thoughts’ when I came out and found a cart wedged against my passenger door, with a corresponding “ding” in the side panel. I wanted to kill. Or at least maim. But when I looked, the culprit was of course long gone.
Fast forward to last night, and once again I found myself in this same lot. With six years and almost 150,000 miles on my car, I wasn’t *that* concerned about door dings anymore, but still, it’s the principle of the thing. It was dark out, seeing as how it’s winter. I parked my car in the third slot from the end. Next to me was an open space, and in the first slot was another car. My mind was drifting a bit, thinking about the 25 degree weather, and how far away Spring seemed to be. As I started to walk toward the store, I half-noticed a woman walking the other way. She was all bundled up against the cold, but that’s about all that registered with me.
Then, in the middle of the road, I stopped. “Was that a cart she was pushing?”, I thought as I slowly turned. And sure enough, as I stood there and watched, I saw her remove her one bag from the cart, and then she did it. Without a second thought, with not a care in the world, she shoved the cart away from her own car…and right down the slope towards mine.
Time stopped for me at this point. Everything went silent. No more sounds of cars whizzing by on the road, no wind blowing. I wasn’t even cold anymore. Because after six long and unrewarding years, I finally had one. I had a Cart Pusher Awayer right in front of me, lined up in my sights. I heard a chorus of heavenly angels singing a song of sweet revenge in my head.
There are things that rarely happen in life. You never see the guy who cut you off a minute earlier, now pulled over by a cop for speeding. You never see the bird that just splatted a softball-sized patty of green and white goo all over your newly-washed car. And you never ever see the person who shoved their cart into your car.
Until now. What I had laid out before me was divine intervention. I could already see me years down the road, the judge at my manslaughter trial sanding up and saying “I declare this man INNOCENT! For Pete’s sake people…he defended himself against a Cart Pusher Awayer! Set this man FREE!!!”. And my status as a national hero cemented forever into the annals of world history. I’d be doing justice for millions of otherwise innocent victims.
As I quickly walked over, solid conviction in my gate, I reached out to stop the cart’s progress. The woman’s back was turned to me as she was unlocking her door. I mulled over which option would be the best to savor this moment…ram the cart into HER car? Just scream and yell like a rabid mad-man? Smack her upside her stupid head with her…cane?
In an instant, I knew what the Hindenburg must have felt like. Not the people inside her when she went from a proud beast, floating strong and purposeful above the masses. But the actual Hindenburg herself, right when everything just…deflated. For there, inside the cart, was a walking cane. And not just *any* walking cane. This one had FOUR support feet on the bottom, the kind that really old people use.
I turned towards the woman, and at that moment she must have realized my presence for she turned as well. And in her face I saw…terror. Thirty seconds ago, I would have enjoyed that look like an all-beef hotdog smothered with Jack cheese and spicy mustard, on a warm summer day, with a cold beer, and the sounds of my favorite baseball team beating our arch rivals 21 to 2. But when I saw her face, all hope of revenge withered away…because this woman had to have been 85 years old. Maybe 90. My brain immediately thought of my own grandmother, long gone now, and in my thoughts I melted as I said “Nana?”
There was nothing I could do. There would be no sweet revenge today. I smiled as I reached into the cart, and handed the woman her cane, saying “I think you forgot this, ma’am.” I had one last thought of shoving the cane where the sun don’t shine, but it lasted just a nanosecond. Her face lit up as she realized I wasn’t going to do bad things, and she smiled and said thanks. Through my grinding teeth I smiled and said, “And I’ll return this cart for you.” She smiled again and said ”Oh thank you so much, you’re so kind!”
As I pushed the cart over to the storage area, I looked up and said “When I get to Heaven, all I want is to give me five minutes alone with a Cart Pusher, deal?” As I continued, I suddenly paused, looked up again and said, “I *am* getting to Heaven, right? I mean, I should be all set based on this one incident alone, right? TALK TO ME!!”
I didn’t get an answer. I returned the cart, bundled up against the cold and the noise, and thought about Spring.
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