Yes, we all know the adage about the Squeaky Wheel "getting the grease". For once, I'll play the role of the Squeaky Wheel. And I literally mean the Squeaky Wheel.
So there I was Friday afternoon, ready to head home for the President's Day weekend, but had to make a quick pit stop at the market for the essentials which would allow me to stay tucked in at the house all weekend.
First stop... the grocery store. See here's the rub... I live in a small college town and if this perceived ten minute stop is done at the wrong time on say Mom or Dad's Weekend, you might as well have brought a tent to camp out, cause the lines for the new iPhone launch are a tad smaller. So coasting through the parking lot doing my recon, the mission looked like a Go. Parking available, a few carts in the cart corral, and most cars looked local. Let's do this.
Once in the door I grabbed the first cart I could get my hands on, disinfecting the handle of any hibbie geebies the last shopper may have graciously left.
Now as I may have inferred, I needed the essentials. Dawg and cat food, beer and a pallet of water for the barn fridge. As I cruised past the organic veggies, I realized that the front left wheel on my shopping companion was teetering. No biggie, I'll only be here for two minutes, max.
I continued on my predestined route to isle 17, pet food. Grabbed the 50 pound bag of dog food for my buds, the 20 pound bag of food for my mouse eradication team, plus six cans of the wet stuff that smells like, well, cat food.
Engaging the handle I push. That 70 plus pounds starts to head immediately left. Heading right for the bird food and cat litter. Whoooa... Hang on partner. I self correct and begin to realize this cart had just copped a major attitude. Knowing I could out muscle this contraption, I adjust my heading with a 20 degree crab (aviation term for angle) and head to the libation section.
Half way to my next check point that front left wheel literally starts to squeak like a 13 year old kids voice as he talks to his first crush. Now, I've got every shoppers attention as I literally push-drag that cart to my beer. Finally arriving at the brew with a major cramp in my left forearm, I hoist two cases of high octane and one pallet of water (strategically positioned a the end cap) into the belly of that beast. Lets see, if I do my calculations right, that's another 32 pounds of liquid. So now, this limping cart weights about 110 pounds and just pulling on my left arm like a six year old who sees the twizzlers are on sale. I mean yanking and squealing!
20 yards past the massive pyramid of bargain soup cans is the goal line. Push, drag, push drag, yank, squeal, squeak. Almost there. So what happens next? That's right! That cantankerous wheel liberates itself from bondage, straightens up and drives straight into that pyramid, sending tomato, barley, and vegetable soup flying across multiple isles! What do I do? Pull my hat down and head to the exit, and quickly! That squeaky beast can be someone else's burden. "Clean Up on Aisle 10!"