Purchase Power

I had to go to Walmart the other evening after work. Already drained from a day of, well, work, I had to make some serious withdrawls from my reserve bank of energy to make it through the crowded cesspool of humanity that is Walmart.

A quarter of the way through my shopping trip, I exited an aisle, purchase in hand.

My cart was no where to be seen.

I looked up and down the rows, and finally spotted my cart, being pushed with a baby in the front basket. I didn't recall having a baby while at Walmart, nor did I bring one along for a fashion accessory. I walked up to the cart and faced the woman.

"Hi," I said.

She began to blush furiously. "Is this your cart." It was a statement, not a question.

"It is."

"I'm so sorry," she said, as she started to pull her purchases from it while fumbling for aforementioned baby.

Humanity kicked me in the groin. "Don't worry about it," I said. "I'll get another cart. But if it's okay, I'd like my sweatpants back."

I trekked back to the entrance to get another cart, sweatpants rolls tucked underneath my arm. (When did they start packaging clothing like sushi rolls?) I grabbed an empty cart rather than an unattended cart, and retraced my steps.

My route led me past the prescription and first aid section. An idea dawned on me.

I know exactly how to prevent my cart getting stolen again. I strode down the "feminine needs" aisle and plucked a box of Vagisil from the shelf with the self-confidence of someone not in personal need of the product in question.

I positioned the package front-and-center in the now baby-less front basket and resumed my shopping.

Eggs, yogurt, rice, enchilada sauce, corn tortillas, gluten free Bisquick, necktie for cat, strawberry jam.

I unloaded my cart and paid for my purchases. Once home, I put away all my groceries. I spied a stray bag on the floor. Picking it up, I could tell that there was still something in there.

I don't really need to finish this story, do I?