Assault with a Deadly Grocery Cart

I don't know what it is with me and Costco, but the lamest things happen to me there. Like getting stalked for a parking space.

This latest episode took place on Friday afternoon, and it's been weighing heavily on my mind ever since. I just had a few things to pick up, but for once, I wasn't in a huge hurry. And by hurry I mean my child wasn't screaming 'CAAAADDOOOOOO' (avocado) or 'BOOOKKKEEEEEE' (book, cd, dvd) or 'COOOOOKEEEEEEE' (this one should be obvious) or throwing his sippy cup at the heads of random strangers.

It was about noon, which if you go to Costco enough, you know that's when they start offering the samples - i.e. when people arrive in droves for a free lunch.

I can't tell you how much I want to hit the people who stop across the aisles, four deep, to wait for a piece of cut up pizza pocket skewered by a toothpick. Or a dixie cup half full of warm juice.

Let me be clear - I don't begrudge those wanting samples. It's the complete lack of awareness of oneself while blocking the path for a full minute while waiting for the food to warm up.

Still, I was actually surprisingly patient for once. Feeling pretty good about how mellow I was considering this type of behavior usually sends me over the edge.

Then IT happened.

After waiting for about six people to exit an aisle, I was about to make my turn. I saw an older woman trying to go ahead of me. Deep breath. I let her go. Then she STOPPED to wait for a sample. Another deep breath.

She started moving, and I thought she'd cleared out. I was wrong.

And I hit her in the ass with my cart.

Not hard, literally a brush, a tap.

She whipped around and gave me the most horrid look. Seriously, I wanted to shrivel up and die, right there next to the 5 gallon jugs of soy sauce.

Me: I am so sorry! (eyebrows raised for effect) I thought you'd already gone through! (In retrospect, this may not have been the best thing to say, as it may infer I thought she had a large ass - she didn't).

Woman: (continues glare, grunts)

Me: Are you okay?

Woman: (sniffs, whips back around, eats her sample)

I felt bad at this juncture. I mean, I definitely could have been watching where I was going a bit better. But I was truly sorry. I apologized. And I meant it.

And come on, there is no way she was even a little bit injured.

She was out of sight and I continued on with my shopping. I still had to grab a few things before I hit the checkout stand.

And wouldn't you know. We were on the same item trajectory. Every single aisle. There she was. Giving me the evilest stink eye imaginable.

I wanted to cry. Don't ask me why, I'm not usually uber-sensitive, but I guess when I've issued a sincere apology for something that wasn't entirely my fault, it makes me feel a bit crappy.

After at least five times crossing paths, I decided I'd had enough. I was guessing at our next passing she'd show up with a neck brace and a personal injury attorney.

It was time to get out. So we got.

All the way home, I thought about this bitter beyotch. Eventually my embarrassment and atonement morphed into flat out anger.

And I'm probably going straight to hell for saying this, but now I wish I'd actually hit her harder and on purpose, if I was going to catch that sort of grief for an accidental tap.

But then, I probably would be out on bail for assault with a deadly cart.