The Joy Of Supermarket Shopping

The Joy Of Supermarket Shopping

You need a shopping trolley. So you go hunting and there they are. A herd of them. All crowded together.

Better get one. But suddenly some old guy gets there before you. And instantly, you feel a bit miffed.

But suddenly some old guy gets there before you. And instantly, you feel a bit miffed.

Hey! Didn’t know this was a race!

Your wave of annoyance rises as he starts futzing around. Trying to shake a trolley loose.

Obviously the cart doesn’t want to go. Instead, it hangs onto another one.

Stuck fast, locked in a shopping cart cuddle.

Now, you’re annoyed. Though you don’t want to show it. So you maintain your game face, keeping back a ways.

Meanwhile, “Old Guy” keeps rattling the trolley, trying to separate it from the pack. Only now, he’s swearing his head off. But you only catch the odd syllable.

“… uckn bast… son of… screw… you”

Which kind of amuses you. Watching this crank wrestling with the trolleys. Even if he is holding you up.

Finally, a woman comes over to get herself a cart. Seeing him struggling, she decides to help him out.

Of course, you should have helped. Though you didn’t want to. Because watching this cart combat was kind of funny.

Probably primal.

Moments later, she liberates him. So without thank her he goes off, shaking his head. Still complaining.

Your turn. Ha! A couple of quick wiggles and out comes your cart from the stack. Too easy.

Now, off to shop.

Better get milk. So you head down the milk aisle. Only, it’s no longer the milk aisle. Now it’s confectionary. A canyon of candy and sweet treats. All begging you to choose them. Pleading with you to buy.

But you’re too savvy to do that.

You know it's a trick to buy more. Besides, you hate how they change products in the aisles. Too confusing. And such a waste of time.

So you pick up speed through the candy lane.

That’s when your trolley gets the shakes. Something's wrong. Looking down you see the front left wheel is wobbling like mad.

“Just my luck! Stupid cart. Why do I have to put up with this? Haven’t got time to go back for another. I’ll press on.”

But you can’t.

Because up ahead there’s a knot of three slobby shoppers, standing in the way. Gasbagging their heads off and blocking the entire aisle.

You’re getting annoyed now because they haven’t seen you. But, being polite, you wait. They’ll suddenly spy you out of the corner of their eye and shift. Then offer apologies.

You think.

Only, they don’t. They’re now up to why her son lost his job for stealing and their neighbour wants the fence replaced. At which time you produce a loud A-HEM.


Now we’re up to her husband having a surprise gall bladder attack and why she wanted to punch the doctor….

You ahem louder. Then cough.

But they’re clueless. 

"....because on Google it says it’s all hormonjal, which isn't good for the old love life. And if he doesn’t watch out, his custard slinger won't manage a full salute…” 

“Excuse me. Coming through!”

Ready or not you’re on a ram raid now. So you thrust your cart across the blockade. Much to the disgust of the the roadblockers.

Once through, you hear, “Didn’t I tell you people are so totally rude? Complete trash!”

Striding along with adrenaline surging, you’re furious! How dare they?

Shunting your silly, wobbling trolley along the next aisle, you still livid. You can’t even think straight. From now on, anyone in the way has got to be your enemy!

You’re upset over nothing. It’s ridiculous.

Feeling your face hot and flushed, you’ve lost it.

You’re too upset to see what you need to get. You can’t even think straight.

Aisles blur as you shove your wobbly trolley along. That's when you see people staring.

You realise suddenly how ridiculous you look all flushed and furious. Race walking an empty trolley with its crazy, shaking wheel.

So, you stop to compose yourself. Trying to stamp out the ranting in your head.

Until you finally say to yourself, "Okay calm down. You're upset over nothing. It's ridiculous. Now think. What else do I need? That’s it. Milk. Cheese. Peas. Lettuce.”

Concentrating, you get the selections on your mental list as your rage downgrades. Now you just want to get out.

So you head to the checkouts.

Only, they’re full! Every one backed up with 5 or 6 carts.

“Damn! Why is this happening?”

Then, you spot an opportunity. On the far side, a checkout. Only one deep.

Go! Go! Go!

You Olympic sprint with your stupid wobbly trolley to get there before anyone else. Phew! You made it!

Oh no!

That old guy, who can’t even get a cart out of the backside of another is there right in front of you.

Oh well. Not a big deal you decide. He won’t take long.

If only!

Because he is arguing with the checkout girl. And the angry old fogey is clearly cranked to the max.

The reason the checkout is otherwise empty is because he is arguing with the checkout girl. And the angry old fogey is clearly cranked to the max. Picking up a few snippets of his ranting you can hear,

“…you alluckn bast… son of a... screw… you”

Not again!

If there's a Heaven, please let it not involve supermarket shopping.





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