A young-ish blonde mother was in line ahead of me with her middle school-aged, UGG-wearing daughter and a Hispanic middle-aged woman. The blonde mother - let's call her Suzanne - was standing behind her cart with her arms resting on the handle.
When the sales associate called out, "I can help the next customer down at register 4", Suzanne pushed the cart just enough so she could walk around the cart and position herself in front. Her daughter - let's call her Ashleigh - was texting while she shuffled ahead. The full cart with one wonky wheel made it's way into another paying customer because no one caught it once Suzanne pushed and scurried around it.
When it hit the backside of the woman paying at register 2, Suzanne yelled at Ashleigh to let the Hispanic woman - let's call her Maria - push the cart.
So many things bothered me about this interaction at the store...
- Suzanne, why can't you just push the freakin' cart yourself?
- Don't blame your daughter for the cart accident; you're the one who pushed it ahead.
- Is it really necessary to have poor Maria schlep around the mall with you to push your cart.
- You seem like a capable and fit woman. You also seem like an annoying, rich, and entitled woman.
Maria, run for your life. Get out while you can!
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