shopping cart shenanigans

To spite the rain, we left the house yesterday. We had Big Plans, consisting of getting on the freeway and driving somewhere East of here. We ended up at Trader Joe's to indulge in one of my favorite activities, recreational food shopping. Actually, I had to buy a jar of mustard for my mom. Their dijon mustard is really good, and she can't get it in CO, so I was performing a service, really, not just spending money because I was bored. I really am not a big clothes shopper. My entire wardrobe consists of Old Navy discounts mixed liberally with Target finds. A vision in drab, I am. But food, now, that is something I can really get excited about. Not in any snobbie, foodie way, but in a mass consumption sort of way. I had spent a lackluster 45 minutes at Barnes and Noble browsing at unacceptably high speeds necessitated by Gabriel's insatiable desire to be dazzled anew with every turn of his head. I had him strapped into the Ergo which is fantastic for walking, hiking, and going to Costco, but pick up a book (on baby sleep tips, for example), pause for a little read and he immediately loses interest in the scenery and starts pulling on my hair. Oddly enough, they don't talk about that on the Ergo website. Nor do they mention that you need to nearly disjoint your shoulders to put baby on back while holding him semi-securely. I'm a bendy sort, so no problem really, but I don't think that everyone would really like the Cirque du Soleil routine required.
Anyway, we cruised the bookstore and then headed for good old TJ's. I pulled into the parking lot and spied a space. I pulled in and, curses, someone had left their stupid shopping cart at the end of it. I thought, well, my car is small, and these parking spaces are designed for the suburban behemouths everyone else drives, so there's PLENTY of room. And there probably was, except I pulled forward just a mite too far and tapped, just tapped, the cart. It rolled. There must have been one of those imperceptible hills, because it picked up speed and sailed into a light green Camry. With someone sitting in it. DAMN! I was out of the car, chasing down the cart by the time I realized that. As I turned back to my car, the solid gentleman in the Camry was out inspecting for any imperceptible scratches. Instead of just apologizing, I said, "Oh, I hope that didn't do any damage." Tee hee. He looked at me very darkly and said, "You should be more careful." I said, "Yeah, I know," and walked up with the errant cart to jam it in the cart corral thingy. For a little while, I seethed, I mean, clearly, it was an accident and if someone had put their stupid cart away, this would never have happened, no need to be cranky about it because it didn't scratch your car at all, mister. Then, I felt guilty. I should have just said sorry. I plopped Gabriel into the erstwhile cart (new baby trick!) and rolled him into the store with my cheeks burning. I was pretty sure everyone was watching me, thinking, "What a bitch. That kid's going to be a delinquent, just like his mother." However, by the time we reached the frozen desserts, the feeling had dissipated, my over-active guilt complex easily assuaged by chocolate. Sweet justice!