Sometime in my late teens I would often go grocery shopping with my dad. Just yesterday (fathers day) I was recalling what a pleasant memory this is. Just us two. Not much said, but that's good.
We would usually go to what was then the friendliest store in town: Waremart. I don't know what happened to Waremart. Where did it go? Nobody knows where.
My job was to push the cart. What else could I do?
When we arrived at Waremart I usually had to start scoping for a cart as soon as we got out of the car. For whatever reason Waremart had a shortage of carts. It was a drudgery to go all the way into the store only to discover there were no carts; then walk all the way out of the store to find one in the parking lot.
On one such evening I found myself in this very debacle. All the way into the store, then all the way out looking for a cart. Oh, my good fortune: here coming toward me is a lady returning her empty cart to the front of the store. "Thank you" I graciously said as I accepted the transfer of possession from her to me. I turned and proceeded back into the store to find dad.
Oops.
The 'check engine' light just illuminated in my brain. The lady wasn't returning the cart. She had the smarts to get one from the lot BEFORE walking all the way into the store.
And I just stole it from her.
One good thing about this: I knew long before I became an adult why adults don't like teenagers.
