People are d*cks.
This morning The Pony and I headed to The Devil's Playground before our latest dose of 3-5 inches of global warming was due to hit Hillmomba.
"Let's park on the pharmacy side. I think we'll have a better chance of finding a spot." It was not only the morning of an impending snowstorm, but the last day of the month falling on a Saturday, which I think means people just got their monthly checks for March. These weekends always bring out a crowd. "You watch over on that row while I go down this one. Let me know if I should swing around."
"Oh Mom. There's one."
"Yeah. It's not too far."
"Take it! I don't think you'll find anything better." The Pony is a remarkably good spotter from the back seat. "I'm waiting until you get out and put your coat on before I leave the car." Huh. That's what happens when you refuse to wear the coat laying right there between the seats, and run around in a hoodie all winter. I guess I should be glad he wears slacks now instead of shorts.
"Do you want me to grab you a cart out here?"
"Yeah. I'll try it out on the way in, and if it won't steer right, I'll trade it inside. Oh. I didn't park very well. I'm sticking out. I'm going to be THAT car. But I couldn't help it. That one pulled in across from me right as I did. I didn't know how far she was going."
"It's not THAT bad. But you do stick out. Cars can still get by."
The shopping itself was uneventful, except for the 15 minutes it took to check out, with only two carts ahead of me. We started up the parking row.
"See there? That car is sticking out even more than mine."
The Pony was walking ahead with the keys. He pointed to that stick-out sedan with both hands, like Carol Merrill showing off the showcase behind Door Number Two.
"Yeah. I see it."
"Um. Mom. It's parked in the cart return space."
And indeed it was. The front bumper was almost up against the metal bars. You couldn't have slid a cart in there sideways.
Still. That sedan stuck out more than T-Hoe.