all hail the cart reetee!!!

I'm not sure if its federal law, but every grocery seems to have at least one resident "challenged" individual on staff.

ours...is the cart pusher.

this guy...well, he's plain ol' vanilla looney tunes. gesticulating wildly as a habit, talking to himself, non-stop...the dude is crazier than a shit-house rat.

his 'conversation,' when directed towards others is generally friendly and he seems (I hope) relatively harmless...yet somehow...

he scares the absolute shit outta me.

in my experience, the only thing more dangerous than a bona-fide 'out-of-toucher' (with reality, that is) is an out-of-toucher with a gun. I just can't get over the feeling that an accidental neck snapping is only one frustrating exchange away. (I'm gonna tend them rabbits, george....)

today...mr. cart reetee and I had a frustrating exchange.

NOT MY FAULT, I FUCKING SWEAR IT.

he looked a little peeved that I was coming out with a full cart of groceries...just as he was heading for the barn with his load of empties.

the dude got distracted (mayhaps by his second or third personality) and left two carts directly in the middle of the lane of travel. now, he's already pissed at me...simply for being there, what's a suki to do?

put my cart ALL THE WAY ON THE OTHER SIDE back in the carty returny thingy and make him walk out there (consequently...past my car, bringing him closer than I'd like)...or do I do the guy a prop and leave mine, in the middle of the fucking road, with the other two?

with my most giantest smile ever I pushed it to the other two and said, dripping with sweet sweet (don't rape me) honey, "here ya go, bud. got another one for ya!"

he went ape shit.

"no. no. no. I SHOULDN'T'A LEFT'EM THERE! NO. no. NO! SHOULDN'T'A LEFT'EM!!!"

I made haste to my car and locked my fucking doors. as I peeled out...I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview taking my cart, and my cart only, back to the store...

gesticulating wildly.

two minutes later, still stuck at the light...

I noticed the other two carts were still in the middle o' da road.

so....

I'm either going to cut my hair (unpossible. there's none left), get a total face transplant and grow 7 inches...

or find a new grocery store. cause homeboy, I'm sure...

wants to fucking kill me.