Did you ever notice how a shopping cart in any place other than a supermarket or a supermarket parking lot looks extremely out of place and even a little disturbing? I saw one during my morning commute a few weeks ago. It was so near the road that I almost clipped it. It was there the next morning. And the next. And the next.
The evening commute takes me on a slightly different path that did not go past the shopping cart, and so I only saw the shopping cart in the morning. I did not the shopping at all until I passed it, and when I did, I would be reminded of all previous encounters. At first I was disturbed just by the sight of the shopping cart, but after a few days I became disturbed more by the fact that I only thought about the shopping cart when I passed it in the morning, and wouldn’t think about it again until the next encounter the following morning. It was like the shopping cart and I shared a universe for a few brief seconds and then separated into distinct realities.
Did the shopping cart feel the same way about me? “Every morning a car with Mark Kaplowitz inside drives by,” the shopping cart says to itself, “but I don’t see the car in the afternoon, and I don’t think about it until the next morning when it passes by again.” Did the shopping cart find the routine as unsettling as I did? I began think the shopping cart was looking at me when I passed it. I began to feel self-conscious during that stretch of road.
Then, a few mornings ago, as I approached the shopping cart spot and started anticipating its presence and steely gaze, I saw that the shopping cart was gone. Then I saw that it wasn’t gone, but merely pushed over on its side. Someone must have had the same feeling I had, and finally could no longer stand the stare of the shopping cart. It must have been dangerous to stop a car in the middle of a road to push over a shopping cart. Maybe it was done late at night when traffic was light.
Whatever the circumstances, the spell was broken. I can now think about the shopping cart at any time of the day. And I do. I picture it lying there, among the tall grass, enjoying the precious last days of summer.
concern for inanimate objects; there must be a medical name for that! My daughter would hold barbies under the water in the tub or tie them into plastic bags to bring them on trips and I would catch myself worried that they couldn’t breathe. 😉
At least the Barbies are designed to resemble a human being. If there’s a coffee cup that I haven’t used in a while, I worry that it’s jealous of all the cups that are being used.
haha!
You should have taken it home, it was probably looking at you every morning wishing you would give it a good home!
It’s still there. I saw it this morning. But I don’t think I could fit it in my car. Maybe there’s an organization that rescues abandoned shopping carts.