Kiddie Cart Blunder
My sincere apologies for the way I reprimanded my children for running their kiddie carts into my heels. I didn’t mean to beat my chest and roar, causing that woman to jerk the wheel of her motorized cart into the end cap of pumpkin spice whipped topping. I had no idea how finicky those pressurized cans would be. I certainly didn’t mean for them to cover that nice family in turmeric-tinted foam—and I’m certain you didn’t mean to provide your smallest patrons miniaturized cart-weapons.
Stacked Round Fruits Slip-Up
When my children chose an already-bruised watermelon for their soccer game and the 6’ display of organic Satsuma mandarins as the goal box, I should have asked them to help pick up. The problem is, I’ve witnessed their help before (e.g. “folding” laundry, “stirring” hot oatmeal) and I thought it best we move on. How could I have known that man would be reaching for some deli hummus on the top shelf—too high for anyone who leaves their stepladder at home, for the record—at the very moment an orange would come to rest under his heel?
Sample Area Incident
On Sundays—when I take the family grocery shopping because a week is long enough to forget—what I really need is a living prayer to make it out alive. What I got instead was industrial-sized, bacteria-laden bowls of guacamole and communal chip fragments. I saw one patron take a four-finger scoop straight to his lips and then go back for more. I think we can agree the least of your problems was my son’s failure to use the tongs?
Fish on Crushed Ice Misunderstanding
If you don’t want children licking the lutefisk display, you might consider replacing the cooling medium with something that looks less like snow. My kids had no idea the crushed ice was meant to preserve the fish and not to be formed into snow cones; I had no idea they’d spit their snow back into the display. In their defense, the fish didn’t smell safe for consumption, so its loss was very likely your legal gain.
Hot Buffet Lapse in Judgement
To the young man who took our lunch order at the hot bar, my son didn’t actually mean what he said about your nose hairs. I’m quite sure there is someone, somewhere, whose are longer, even in the retail food business. My apologies for his honesty, and I accept yours for the stray in my Stromboli.
Reusable Bag Miscalculation
Yes, I did see that you sell reusable bags. Thanks for the subtle reminder in the form of a store intercom announcement: “assist needed for a paper bagging incident on aisle 3.” The thing is, I didn’t feel like spending another $36 on six cloth bags to add to my coat closet where they’d be forgotten along with the others next Sunday. And no, I do not hate the planet, Feather. Do you hate yourself?
Cart Return Faux Pas
If I’m ever in your store by myself, I will always return my cart to the nearest available corral when I leave. Otherwise, like on Sundays, I will point my cart in the direction of a solid structure and give it a shove. Under only one circumstance would I leave a cart wedged between the fenders of two parked vehicles and that circumstance is when no one is watching.