I pulled into a parking spot next to a woman who was unloading her cart in to her hatchback. I got out just as she finished.
She closed her trunk and I could see she hesitated. She wanted to leave her empty shopping cart behind the car next to her and just take off but when she scanned for witnesses she saw me coming around my car.
I smiled at her.
Relenting to guilt, she huffed realizing that she’d now have to walk the cart back to that wagon corral they have in the middle of the parking lot…because of me.
Our pace put us next to each other as I walked toward the store.
I usually gab with people at times like this, but I felt a coolness that alerted me to potential conflict. Since I promised Nancy I’d avoid these from now on, I said nothing. Besides, my smile not being reciprocated was an indicator too.
So, we walked next to each other in silence. I felt her periodically glance over at me.
That corral seemed like a mile away.
When she got to it, she slammed her cart into the row of others and fished her keys out of her pocket book.
Before she could walk back to her car, I took her wagon.
“Really?!”
“What?”
“You made me walk all the way back here?”
“I didn’t make you do anything.”
“Why didn’t you take my shopping cart back at my car?”
I shrugged.
“You waited ‘til I came all the way back here to this stupid cart thing and THEN you take my cart?”
“I wasn’t sure which one I wanted.”
“Are you kidding me, guy?”
“Did you ever get that cart where one wheel is spastic and shakes like crazy when you walk. I hate that. I saw you pushing this one and I liked the way it rolled.”
She turned and started her journey back to her car. “Asshole.”
“It was like a test drive,” I yelled to her. “Why would I choose another cart? This one proved itself.”
She flipped her hand with a dismissive, ‘whatever’ flourish.