Little kindnesses and karma

Just got back from that particular little corner of hell that's otherwise known as the local Kroger store. How appropriate. I visited hell on 6/6/06.

There are several reasons that this particular Kroger is hellish, one of them being the parking situation.
I'm not sure why, but the Kroger in Evergreen Square, though it has a humongous parking lot, is nearly always crammed full. Maybe it's the sorta-central location...I dunno...but most of the other Krogers' I've been in here in town don't seem to have the same problem.

Would-be shoppers school around and around....and around...the lot, searching for that absolute choice parking spot like a frenzy of sharks just waiting for the perfect opportunity to take a big bite outa the whale's ass. They follow people that come out of the store to see where they're parked. If it's a good spot, they'll just hang there, turn signal on, holding up traffic, clearly marking their territory.

I love to fuck with the sharks. If I see one eyeballin me, I take my sweet time. I slow down. I spend an inordinate amount of time putting the groceries in the car...just so. I casually stroll the empty cart back to the little cart kiosk. One of my biggest pet peeves, btw, are those lazy, inconsiderate asses who can't be bothered to return the damn carts instead, leaving them parked exactly where they left 'em...usually right in the middle of MY parking spot.

After I casually stroll back to the car, givin the shark a sideways glance, I take my time gettin in, mess with the seat belt, adjust the tilt wheel, maybe light a cigarette, maybe mess with the radio...just to kill a little time, ya know?
Twist the knife a little. I can't help it. I've got a cruel streak.
Anyway, today I just happened to luck into one of the choice spots...and I didn't even hafta go into shark-mode. Which I don't do. Very often.

But I digress.

The store was packed, as usual. That's another reason it's hellish...no matter what time of day ya try to hit it, the damn store is packed...with only two checkers, of course. I successfully navigate through all the little yuppie moms with their three, screaming kids and their big-assed kiddie-car carts; the blue-hairs who can't steer a shopping cart any better than they can their Buicks and the big fat-asses who can't possibly do something so exerting like walk through the store...they hafta use the electric carts for their Doritos and donuts, doncha know?

I make a quick stop at the deli for a pound of really good hard salami (no snide remarks, please). The old fart with the gold chain around his neck deigns to wait on me, looking like he'd be much happier if he were somewhere gettin his balls waxed. He stands there, sighing and rolling his eyes as he weighs my salami. He slaps the bag of sliced salami on the counter and just looks at me questioningly, not bothering to ask if I want anything else. I notice his name tag reads 'Dean'. 'Dick' would be far more appropriate. I grab the bag and walk away, heading to the checkout.

I managed to find everything on my list, which was unusually short for a change and even luck into a checkout line that doesn't wind half-way across the store, even though there are ONLY TWO FUCKING CASHIERS. As I'm standing there, fuming, I happened to look behind me and notice an elderly lady with a bunch of bananas. That's it. Bananas. I stand there for a second, thinking to myself...

Good Self: "It'd be a really nice gesture if you'd let her go ahead of you. I mean, all she has are those bananas."

Bad Self: "Yea, but look at how it's gone so far...with your luck, the old crank probably wouldn't even thank you. And ya just KNOW she's gonna fumble-fuck around and write a damn check...for a bunch of bananas."

Good Self: "Awww...c'mon. Be a nice person for a change. And besides that, you DID luck into that choice parking spot...it's like...karma. Pay it forward."

Bad Self: "That movie sucked ass. Can't you ever just keep your damn mouth shut? Gawd. Who do you think you are...Mother Fucking Theresa?"

Good Self: "Now, c'mon. You know you wanna."

"I hope to hell you're happy," I smugly say to Good Self. "You're gonna be standin here for fifteen friggin minutes with your thumb up your ass."

I tell the old lady to go ahead of me.

I bet if that old lady thanked me once, she thanked me five times. And she had her billfold out BEFORE the cashier even got done ringing her bananas up. And...I'll be damned...she paid CASH.

And I even got out to the car, got all the groceries loaded up, put the cart away...with nary a shark in sight.

It's like...karma, man.