Oh Hell No Again

August 23, 2005 at 3:31 pm (Die Yuppie Scum, Funny Shit)

Yep, I still go to Hel*Mouth, mostly due to a total lack of choice. While H'sMa is generous about allowing me to use her car, the $2.79/gal gas prices keep me on a short leash, since I do put gas in the car every time I use it. Putting gas in every time I use the car causes her to cuss and yell (mostly the words "I told you not to do that!"), but she doesn't play Bingo so she needs another reason to cuss. Like the nice daughter-in-law in training that I am, I do aim to keep her happy, hence the gassing of the Lumina when I use it.

Anyhoo, I usually catch a ride to the Hel*Mouth with Honey, and once there I try to limit the pain shopping can put me in by using one of those motorized carts. I've found if I decide "I'm doing fine, I don't need the cart" I'm in hellacious pain by the time I'm done shopping, so I just say screw those who don't like it, I'm using one. This particular story picks up toward the end of tooling around the store a few weeks ago, just as folks are settling in for the siege that is back-to-school shopping, and one woman's got four children with her, all in various stages of rip and tear about the store, in and out of the cart, all yelling "Mommy Mommy Mommy" simultaneously.

I'd missed mowing down each of those wild-grown children several times during the shopping trip, and I'd finally passed them one last time and was headed to the checkout lanes, Honey in front scouting out a decently short checkout line. We'd just about made it when….

CRASHTHUNK!

I let off the throttle immediately, which I'd had going full-bore in an attempt to get the fuck out of Dodge, mostly because I'd just been shoved violently, cart and all, from behind. Cussing and not giving a shit what anyone thought of the words, "What the total fucking…" as I turned around, I see the woman dumbassed enough to bring four children into the store and not smart enough to make the little bastards behave like they weren't raised by wolves. She'd run full blast into the ass-end of a cart moving at top speed, hard!

I looked at her, saying something stoopid like, "What on Earth…" I was just floored. How in the HELL do you miss me when a 6'3'' man is directly ahead of the cart? I'm not short, these things don't sit all that low (they'd be hard to use if they were, since a lot of mobility-impaired folks have trouble standing up from low seats), and my plus-size ass is very hard to miss. She still rammed me from behind.

She had the nerve to look at me and say, "Oh–I didn't see you there."

No SHIT you didn't see me there, you classless dipshit! You didn't SEE me because you weren't facing FORWARD while shoving that cart as fast as you could move it while yelling at your kid! Yeah, that yelling's been working SOOOO well so far tonight–keep it the fuck up, you dizzy yuppie moron! That's something else she'd been doing the whole time she was there–pushing the cart while trying to track her hellspawn. Why didn't you just make the kids behave or take them the fuck HOME where you should have left their Mowgli asses in the first place?

She stared at me a moment more, then resumed the bitching and pushing routine. No apology, not even an "Oops, my bad."

I'd have blown it off as a freak accident if it hadn't happened again, about a week later. THAT entire excursion was spent with me trying to stay in front of Honey, while he tried desperately to stay behind me, to prevent a reoccurence. The moment he stepped in front of the cart to look at something in a refrigerator case, some jackass and son rear-ended me again!

It's enough to make me want one of those stoopid flags to plant in the back of the cart, just to keep shit-for-brained asshats from trying to run me over.

I'd spring for one, but shit, if these trainable but mentally-impaired jackasses could miss me, Honey, and a 500 lb. cart, one little dumbassed flag isn't going to improve the situation.

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