I always push my cart from behind, but there are those couples who seem to operate in tandem, walking side by side to better block the aisle. People with unregulated children in tow seem to allow them to flit about like little satellites or moons around the home planet of their parenthood. Rendered brainless by such kiddie fare as
Spongebob SquarePants, these wandering kids are oblivious to everything, including people trying to pass.
Then my supermarket chain employs a meandering robot called
Marty who slowly rolls down the aisles looking for spills. He becomes immobile when he encounters one, blocking passage and intoning that a cleanup is needed. Someday, my feral instincts are going to be triggered, I’ll
fling myself upon him, and take the robotic horror
down!
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