Like a Cart Outta Hell

Go to any dealer of fine comestibles and/or goods which allows the use of shopping carts, and you'll likely find a parking lot littered with said carts.

Despite many stores' implementing of cart returns and the like—designed to make it as painless (and brainless) as possible to return a cart from whence it came in order to prevent damage to vehicles, among other things—a large number of jackasses still have not grasped the concept. These douches, upon seeing that there is no return area within 5 feet of their vehicle and they may actually have to walk, surreptitiously wheel their cart to a nearby curb and leave it there, completely assured that they have done the correct thing.

The problem comes in, however, when a gentle breeze stirs and easily jars the cart from its weak-ass lodgment against the curb. It then, through the course of gravity, becomes a projectile which more often than not dents several vehicles and kills quite a few small animals and children. All the while this is occurring, the one-time cart owner is decrepitly trying to fit his or her ass into their shitty 1993 Oldsmobile, never realizing the pain and suffering their failure to return the damn cart to the damn steel thing causes everyone damn else.

And what is the excuse for not performing this common courtesy? Some might sympathize and claim that some store-goers are too damn old to return their carts, and that they shouldn't have to walk to a cart return if they don't feel like it. True. The one hole in this theory, though, is that these geriatric bastards just got done running the damn supermarket mile and now they couldn't possibly walk another 15 feet. Good luck, Grandma. The little blue sign doesn't excuse you from everything.

On many occasions, I've had the notion to slyly grab the cart, wait until the fatass is pulling away, and then heave the cart into their fender as hard as I possibly can. Or if I'm lucky, the jackass will swerve to avoid the cart and crash headlong into another vehicle or an outdoor garden display. Honestly, these are the things I think about. Every day of my life.

Please people, put your shopping carts where they belong. Nobody likes a body shop bill.