Night Of The Living Shopping Carts
Wednesday - November 22, 2006
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Del.icio.usI hate driving other people’s cars. I’m too paranoid that while I’m driving it, something is going to happen. I might get into a fender bender, receive a parking lot door dent, have a flat tire or totally blow out the engine. That’s before I even get out of the garage.
This is why I don’t like to drive my wife’s car - her other baby. It has a custom paint called Diamond White, and she surveys her “baby” on a nearly hourly basis to detect flaws such as scratches and, God forbid, dents.
It’s a 2003 model, and yet she will insist on a complete repair if it sustains the slightest of body damage. The other night we had to go to the nearby grocery store. We went in her car with our 9-year-old daughter, and I drove. When we got there, I decided to wait in the car with our daughter.
I had parked the car way in the boondocks away from the other cars so as to avoid even the slightest chance of a door ding or scratches. I took the key out of the ignition and reclined the seat. Uphill and out of the corner of my left eye, I saw three empty shopping carts left in the lot.
Suddenly, a rogue gust of wind came along and jarred the carts. They started heading straight for the side of my wife’s car. I jumped up, but figured there was no way I could exit the car in time to stop the inevitable collision with the vehicle. My best bet was to start the car and move it.
As the carts slowly crept towards the car, I fumbled to put the keys into the ignition. My daughter, who saw what was about to happen, started screaming, “Start the car, Daddy, start the car!” In my haste, I dropped the keys on the floor. The three carts, like zombies, were coming straight for us.
I yelled, “Nooooooo!” in cinematic slow motion as the three carts slammed into the side of my wife’s car. I embraced my daughter as we waited for the second horror feature - when my wife comes back, it’ll be the movie Psycho all over again.
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