My thousand and one errands today included a trip to the grocery store and when done I began the dreaded ritual of pushing the heavy cart to the car, uphill of course!
At the same time I was crossing the inner roadway, a lovely, quite senior woman was crossing from the parking lot area into the store, HurryCane in hand, Ray Charles sunglasses on, the whole nine yards of being really old. She didn’t see the yellow speed bump and started to topple over.
To catch her before she fell, I let my cart go, not seeing that my cart went on its merry way, across the path.
I wasn’t concerned because my entire focus was on the woman. By this time, a wonderful young man came over to help me help her up. She did fall to her knees but between the two of us we saved her from falling flat on her face.
She seemed okay, was appreciative of the help, but wanted to go on her way into the store to shop. That was enough excitement for the day, so I thought.
By the time I got to my cart, I realized it did indeed do a wee bit of careening and found the tail end of a black Escalade. Uh oh. The woman who owned the Escalade was there, angry as all get out that the cart hit her car.
I explained the situation, another woman who saw what happened also tried to explain to Escalade Mama I had to let the cart go. I ASSUMED the Escalade Mom would understand but she was ornery and just plain feisty (or drunk, not sure which). I couldn’t see that the cart had done any damage so I grabbed the cart, apologized and started to head to my car when she came after me, yes, she came after me, and wanted me to pay her for the damage to her car.
I was so taken aback I laughed, thinking for sure she was kidding, but she was not. I told her I would not pay her any money because my cart caused no damage. I asked her to show me what she thought was the damage and she went off the rails, swearing up a storm at ME.
I think she wanted to take it out back and duke it out with me. I felt cornered and not sure what to do but luckily the same young man who helped me pick up the older woman came to my rescue. He pretty much got in her face and told her to take a hike. She skulked away, her way too tight LuluLemon pants wedged up her butt, and I thanked the young man profusely.
All the way home I thought about the woman who yelled at me, wondering what kind of person could drop the F-bomb and other assorted words for such a simple non-incident. She seemed high to me and I actually worried that she was in some altered state. Of course, it could be it’s just that she’s a bitch, and that is her normal state. I didn’t hang around long enough to analyze her. What a day.