A Puzzlement

I'm curious about something. Who are the incredibly busy and important people who leave their shopping carts in the parking lot? Under the strains of some unspeakable time constraint they quickly load their groceries then speed off, leaving the cart willy-nilly, where it takes up parking spaces or rolls about aimlessly until it whacks into someone else's car. Laboring under God knows what stress or even terror, they cannot take the 20 seconds required to drop the empty cart in one of the many cart lanes so judiciously provided by the retailer.

I worry about these poor, overburdened souls. I really do. So my gift to the universe is to stow these carts for them. I have been graced with a life low on the stress meter. Even on those busy, get-up-and-go days, I always have time to park my cart. And if parking the cart on behalf of one of these tortured individuals can bring just a little more peace and order in the world than I am happy to be the agent of goodwill.

I never actually see these people leaving their carts. If I did I would ask them, "Tell me, friend, what burden constrains you from the common decency of parking your cart? How may I ease your woes?" But something tells me that would be a good way to end up as a skid mark. So I will continue to stow the carts of others and hope that by doing so I will somehow be spared the curse of becoming on of those cart-leavers with the busy, busy lives.