There's a new wrinkle in my ongoing struggle to be allowed to take my groceries to my vehicle without assistance and small talk.
The baggers have launched an altogether baffling lobbying campaign.
They have started saying, “I can bring the cart back.”
I'm not quite sure how to put this. But big whoop.
I'm usually pretty capable of bringing the cart back or placing it in one of the parking lot corrals. And if, heaven forbid, the cart were to be left unattended in some random spot in the lot, the shocking truth of the matter is that I don't really care. I am not an adjunct employee of Roseway or Super Albert's or whatever the store happens to be.
I just want to be on my way, free to pursue various man-about-town activities or perhaps go home and take a nap.
But still these often appealing young people beseech me with their earnest expressions: “I can take these bags out for you. Then I can bring the cart back.”
Oh, well, in that case…if it means you could bring the cart back. Uh, no thanks.
Now I understand that the baggers want to be liberated from the stultifying confines of the store. They want to take their sweet time and engage in plenty of mental meandering as they wend their circuitous way back to the checkout aisles.
I get it. Really, I do.
But I have my own modest dreams. And none of them involves being treated like an invalid who can't transport his own grocery bags and put them in the trunk himself.
Of course, if I do allow one of the kids to walk me to my car and pactice his or her people skills on me, then they can take the cart back.