Wal-Mart, Wheelchairs, and Weirdos

 

You would think the Wal-Mart crowd would be accepting of a dude in a motorized grocery cart, but...no.

Hubby is recovering nicely from acute pancreatitis, but he doesn't have much energy. So, he decided to ride in a motorized cart while accompanying me on a short shopping trip today. It wasn't the greatest cart - it stalled periodically and when he took his hands off the controls, it nearly threw him over the handle bars. It also sounded like a meat grinder.

He was hesitant to board. He's only 40 years old and he's ticked off enough that he is almost all gray. But it was either ride the cart, or pass out in the canned veggie aisle... which he almost did a couple of days ago. 

People don't like dudes in motorized carts. They take up a lot of aisle space and they beep when they back up. But people don't really know how to handle such a thing. It's the same as riding in a wheelchair, basically. In 2011, you'd think wheelchairs would be a normal thing, but not at Wal-Mart. No, not at all.

It's understandable that little kids would look at you funny when you're riding one. Most of them probably want to ride one. It's another thing when full-grown adults stare at you like you've got one ear and four eyes. Haven't you seen someone sit down before? Is this really new to you? 

Some people over-compensate by being sickeningly polite. They're trying to be nice, but it's awkward. They take a giant step back and sweep the path in front of them with their hand, like your throne awaits in aisle 3. Some make a run for it, hoping to get in front of you so they don't have to wait, nearly knocking you and your items on the floor. Others stomp behind you, sighing loudly, letting you know that you're a total jerk for having some sort of disability.

It's really hard to excuse a 400-pound woman in a mini-dress from treating your husband like a moron. 

Pot.
Kettle.
Black.

 When we got in line, a young(er) dude got in line behind us. Out of 36 lanes, only a few were open, and the lines were crazy. Everyone was in a bad mood. The guy behind us was in an even worse mood because my husband's cart was blocking him from putting his groceries on the belt. There was nowhere for my husband to go, except the mini-fridge full of sodas. As soon as the person in front of us left, I told my husband to scoot in front of me so Prince Charming could put his precious margarita mix down.

Next time, I'm going to put a flag on the back of hubby's cart. The Vietnam vet with the enormous flag and the POW symbols on his cart drew no ire from other shoppers. Note: If you're a wounded vet, that's OK. If you can't walk for any other reason, you don't deserve to shop.

I got mild satisfaction from watching the looks on everyone's faces as my husband got up from his cart and gingerly made his way to the car, which I managed to park only 2 spaces away. I know it ticked some of them off. They probably thought he was just too lazy to walk around the store.

Now if only some people would muster up the energy to put on a real shirt and some pants.

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