Why are British shopping trolleys so hard to push?
After lazing around with friends this morning downing frothy skinny cappuccinos and discussing the spring-like weather, I stopped by Waitrose to pick up a few essentials. I like shopping there, despite the fact I spend on average £20 more each visit than Tesco. It’s an experience.
It all started out nicely. Ooohhhh, what’s that? Patatas bravas? And a quesadilla? My mind started to wander to summer holidays in Spain, free flowing tapas, children content in the sand, sunshine on tap…
As I was about to take a sip of my Rioja, I was jolted into reality. Oh this darn trolley. Why won’t it move? I looked down at the wheels and some silly metal contraption seemed be stuck. I tried jiggling it back and forth. Still jammed. I pushed harder, putting my shoulder into it, and this seemed to work.
That cake looks nice, doesn’t it sweetie? HM, following behind me with her Dora backpack, is in perfect form and we both start drooling over the pastel pink and yellow buttercream covered cupcakes. Right next to them are rabbit and egg-shaped cut out biscuits, decorated with purple and green dots.
I turned left, towards the warm smell of fresh baked breads, but the trolley won’t budge. I look round and everyone seems to be strolling along nicely with perfectly tame trolleys. I gave mine a push, a hard one, ooopps maybe too hard, and then it’s all a blur — a blood curdling scream, red splats, a spiral of baked bean cans tumbling across the black and white tile floor.
I quickly work out that HM has banged her lip on the shopping cart and I probably need to take her to A&E.
A nice lady from customer service appeared and asks if we are OK while I am trying to stop the bleeding with the only thing I had in my pocket — some toilet roll that I had stuffed there in the morning because Emily had a runny nose and I couldn’t find any tissues. HM’s screams get louder and soon there is a bit of a crowd, mainly old ladies with concerned looked (who else do you see shopping at half past ten on a Wednesday morning?)
The nice customer service lady brought over a box off tissues and an ice lolly for HM, whose screams subside once the multi-coloured fruit pastilles pop is in her mouth. Thankfully the bleeding stopped.
I asked the customer service lady if anyone else had trouble with the trolleys. She explained that they have special devices to try to avoid them leaving the car park.
Does anyone else struggle with trolleys? Or is is just me?