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Today's rant: Those piece of crap race car shopping carts and the people who use them. There's no room in the typical grocery store for these oversized monstrosities. They won't stack with the other carts, they're always blocking at least one of the lanes for returning shopping carts, and making room for them in the stores and the charming little rugrats they house is a constant PITA. It's difficult enough navigating around all the people who leave their carts angled to block whole aisles, or who have stopped mid-aisle to have an impromptu family-reunion or get-together with friends, or who are paying more attention to their friend on the other end of their cell-phone than they are their surroundings, without having to contend with these brontosaurus wannabes. You have to be crazy to attempt driving an 18-wheeler down Lombard Street, and someone who is in less than complete control of their faculties to drive one of those souped-up baby carriages through a grocery store. I hate them, and if you use them, I hate you and your self-absorbed offspring.
Well, not really hate. But I won't be getting you any Christmas presents.
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