Adventures in a Parking Lot

June 2020

The other day my wife and I took a quick trip to the grocery store. I had been getting a bunch of texts on the way there, and because it is illegal to check your phone while driving, as well as stupid, I stayed in the truck to check my messages while my wife ran in.  We just needed milk and bread, so it was no big deal. She’d only be a minute. Little did I know what an adventure awaited me. Afterwards, I had so many new things to ponder about life and the status of our species.

Now, I never realized that supermarket parking areas could be so entertaining. I was surprised by the variety of things to see and do. I was in the midst of a three-ring circus of human behavioral oddities.  Our frailties and flaws clearly out in the open for all to see.  In fact, so much was going on that I took a moment to observe. To take it all in.  I was in for a treat. It started simply enough…

A young man next to me was meticulously unloading his groceries into the trunk of his fine BMW. It appeared he was talking to himself. But no, he had technology in his ear and was having a conversation about something dire, of that I was certain. Ever so carefully he deployed his shopping. After he finished, without moving the cart an inch from the back of his vehicle, he got in and drove away. Leaving an empty grocery cart not 100 feet from a well-placed cart corral.

Nothing irritates me more than this! I had witnessed many a cart abandoned in this way.  But this was my first time seeing a perpetrator.  It is the most lazy, thoughtless, rude thing a human can do.  At least in my mind. Leaving an empty cart sitting in the middle of a grocery store parking lot. Not only that, but it was windy, and before he was even out of sight that cart was rolling like a missile. Accelerating as it darted across the aisle toward the cars on the other side.

Of course, I quickly dropped my phone and unbuckled my seat belt. Only doing so after forgetting I had it on, and nearly castrating myself as I lurched to get out of the truck. Ignoring the pain, I bounded forth to stop the speeding cart from colliding with an innocent vehicle. I arrived in the nick of time to save the day. I received a gentle round of applause from an onlooking elderly couple walking up to the store.  I smiled and bowed reverently to their acknowledgment.

After pushing the cart into its proper resting place, I began to proudly mosey back to my truck. I was basking in a bit of glory as well as surveying the impending bruises from my seatbelt debacle. So, I was not paying proper attention. In the process, I nearly got run over by a vehicle with a driver who was paying even less attention to their surroundings than I was. The car was being driven way too fast for being in a parking lot.  Slamming on her brakes as well as her horn, an elderly woman flipped me off as she sped away, cigarette dangling from her muttering lips. I quickly jumped back into my truck. A bit shaken, but more annoyed than anything else.

After settling down for a moment, I quickly recovered from my fiasco.  I retrieved my phone from its resting place on the muddy floor of the truck and began to wipe off the soiled screen. As I did, I glanced up to witness an amusing argument over a motorized handicap cart. Two young gentlemen were quarreling about who got to drive it. It was entertaining to watch, especially because the adversaries were store employees that nearly came to blows over who got to take the thing back into the store.

The winner, an overweight sort that looked like he had just got out of prison or would soon be an inmate, sat down, barely fitting his wide rear end into the seat, and began driving it. Proceeding roughly at a speed that could easily be matched by a snail. I watched as he progressed. He got passed by an old woman using a walker.  No kidding. His opponent and I both chuckled.  He got what he deserved. Maybe what he wanted, as it was going to be 15 minutes of idle sitting to get his fat ass and that cart back into the store. I shrugged and began again to look at my phone.

Before I could get very far, I was interrupted by a knock on my window. A decent looking young man stood before me. Rather than open my window, which I quickly deemed imprudent, we began a conversation through it. Needing to essentially yell to be heard. I did more listening than shouting. 

The person began regaling me with his need for a train ticket. His car had broken down while he was up here for his brother’s funeral. He needed to get back to Indiana. Stopping him short of what I am certain would have been a riveting conclusion, I explained I had no cash. As an entrepreneur, he explained he took Venmo or Applepay.  With a shake of my head, I shooed him away, pleading that I had no idea how to use those methods of payment.  Which was only a minor fib.  He thanked me courteously and shuffled forth.  Again, I went back to my phone. 

Meanwhile, right in front of me, two cars had pulled next to one another in adjacent spaces. They positioned themselves within less than a foot of each other.  I watched curiously as they opened their windows and began having a conversation. I couldn’t hear it, but it was obviously animated. I think I was either witnessing a drug deal or they were in a lunch sharing club.

Paper bags quickly passed back and forth between the two vehicles. Two automobiles that couldn’t have been more different. One a brand-new Mercedes SUV, the other a Pinto, circa 1987. They concluded their business quickly and went their separate ways. Speeding off in different directions.  I’m not sure who got the PB&J and who got the bologna. 

Amused yet somewhat disturbed, I once again went back to my phone. But before I could do much, my attention was diverted by a nice young woman pushing her cart back to the cart corral. It warmed my heart! As she meandered, she was multitasking, pushing while talking on her own phone. Which I assume is legal in my state.

She was obviously distracted, as she failed to notice a large pack of diapers that had been left on the bottom of her cart. For a moment, I thought this might be another potential drug deal, but quickly dismissed this. I opened my window and attempted to alert her to what she had left behind. After first grimacing at the interruption, she noted her near blunder then smiled and thanked me. My second good deed for the day. 

Meanwhile, while my window was still open, I heard my car-less friend from Indiana just a few cars over telling his story to another shopper. This time he needed the money for a prescription. He must have already gotten enough for his train ticket. Unfortunately, I was unable to hear the rest of his creative diatribe as it was interrupted by a cacophony that, like a thunderstorm, seemed to be moving closer.  

I looked over my shoulder and saw a car approaching with a stereo so loud, with so much bass, that its windows were vibrating to a point I thought they would shatter. Of course, this mobile DJ pulled up and parked next to me. Even my windows were vibrating. It was unreal.  “Nuthin’ but a G Thing” reverberated like a passing F-16 until he finally exited the car.

As the noise faded, he left behind a scent that enraptured some of my other senses.  Either he was going into the store to get food for his pet skunk, or he had hit one on the way to the store. The odor was insane. I almost moved my truck.  But for some reason the longer I sat there the more content I seemed to become. It must have been that intoxicating music. Who doesn’t love Dr Dre?  I began thinking, Dr Dre must be an ear, nose, and throat Doctor.  I was getting caught up in the circus.

Slightly concerned, as it had been a while since she had left the truck, I began to look for my wife. She certainly was a bit overdue from her milk and bread run. After a time, I saw her. Of course, she was pushing a cart full of groceries. Typical. I politely helped her unload and as I did so, I regaled her about my eventful parking lot adventures. She listened but was frustrated and distracted because she realized she had forgotten the milk. By this time my skunk farmer had returned with a handful of lottery tickets and started his car, along with the stereo. We decided the milk could wait. My wife is not a Dr Dre fan, nor big on skunks either. Oddly enough, as we pulled away, I noticed my friend from Indiana.  He was driving the car in front of me.  It had Michigan plates.  I chuckled.

I never got around to checking my text messages.  But I had a marvelous time at the circus anyway.  I returned home a richer human being, with a little bit greater understanding of our nature as a species.  But no milk.