Big-Box Belligerence

Statisticians (at least the ones not doing political polls) are so modest that they assert causality is implied and never actually proven. I’m pretty sure I can prove rather than simply imply that the arrival of my children has caused me to visit big box-stores more often. For some inexplicable reason, big-box stores turn the nicest people into sociopathic boors. Some of the big-box personality types I have had the pleasure of meeting:

1) The Friendly Neighbour – on the rare day when the available parking stalls are actually numerous, you may elect to park a few hundred yards away from everyone else. This enables you to get the kids out of their car seats and get them into a shopping cart and/or stroller with ample maneuvering room. You also have enough time to safely chase down a baby bottle that has been thrown farther than one of Troy Westwood’s kicks without actually becoming roadkill. The Friendly Neighbour knows that what you are missing most on your shopping excursion is human contact. They take it upon themselves to sociably park RIGHT NEXT to you although there isn’t another car around for miles. If they are feeling exceptionally charitable, they will park on the side your oldest (and biggest) child is on and actually traverse the yellow line, encroaching on your stall. They then have the courtesy to glare at you while you are doing your best to extricate your children to make sure you don’t ding their door. When you have proven to them that you are a contortionist worthy of Cirque du Soleil, they still leave in a huff.

2) The Shopping Cart Copperfield – this person has the unique talent of making the only shopping cart with child seats disappear. You later encounter this nattily dressed female at the checkout counter buying one bottle of nail polish or hairspray. While your kids have been flopping around in the front of your cart and making a mess of your purchases by opening boxes and spilling its contents, you are grateful that the Shopping Cart Copperfield made better use of the cart than you would have. I mean baskets are just so heavy and they crease supple hands!

3) The Cartstuffer – this is the one person you never get to have the good fortune of meeting face to face. Our mystery shopper feels that the next person to use their cart will have a better shopping experience if they fill the only cart left with used cups and tissues laden with some of their bodily fluids. If they could, they would probably throw in a used rectal thermometer for good measure. The terms “pockets” and “garbage cans” are missing from their vernacular. My theory is that they are actually employees of the store because you invariably buy barbecue tongs to handle the cart contents and lighters to burn the biohazardous materials.

4) The Crosswalk Andretti – this person honestly believes the “Pedestrian Crosswalk” sign entitles them to step on the accelerator. If the Crosswalk Andretti is particularly diligent, they will actually take note of how many pedestrians they almost mowed down on their latest tear through the front of the store. (I actually believe NO TRAFFIC should be allowed at the entrance of a big box outlet but I’ll save my “traffic should be routed to the parking lot periphery” rant for another day)

5) The Aisleway Cholesterol – this person clogs the arteries of the store like a daily meal of 5 Big Macs. While perusing the store’s wares, they see fit to park their cart in the MIDDLE of the aisle lest anyone dare pass them when they are caught in the passionate throes of deliberating between Pepsi or Coke. If you are having a really good day, this person will be unable to do the requisite math to ascertain whether 3 for $4.00 is cheaper than 2 for $3.00. This has the benefit of prolonging the joyous experience of your big-box shopping excursion.

6) The Time Machine – this person signifies that the end of your shopping trip is near, relatively speaking. They will bring in a sale flyer from three months ago and argue ad nauseum with the cashier that the same price should still apply. You can see the exit but the fitful outbursts of your children by this point in your shopping experience make it seem light years away. With luck, Mr. or Mrs. Time Machine will give up within another 15 to 20 minutes.

7) The Spawner – this individual lacks the reading comprehension skills to differentiate between “Entrance” and “Exit”. It may be an honest mistake – I mean they both start with the letter “E” and in this harried era, who has the time to read anything more than the first letter? This person will enter the store through the exit and give you a stern look because you can’t stop the 300 pound cart of diapers and wipes you are pushing (on an incline) to avoid the inevitable collision.

With any luck you too shall come to meet these bastions of social grace and decorum….