My mother-in-law Ms. Larda always does her Christmas shopping early. Sometimes too early. Grandkids who wanted inflatable fighting roosters for the pool when she was shopping in August are now jabbering about magnetic building blocks and Barbie Twinkle Toes.
Ms. Larda says, well, it gives her a chance to take a last lap around the stores.
So last year, in the first week in December, she hitches a ride with me — who am just starting my shopping, naturally — to this shopping center we go to (out of a abundance of caution, I ain’t going to say which one.)
Now, Ms. Larda is getting a little older, and she is worrying that she won’t be able to trot around the store like she has always done. And then — would you believe — at the door to one particular store we like (I also ain’t going to say which one) they have them riding carts.
So she gets on one and tries to figure out how to make it go. Seems to be easy enough.
Turns out, it ain’t.
I read the sign next to the carts out loud. “Simply press the handle to go. Just let go of it to stop.”
“There ain’t no brake,” I tell her.
Well, she gets inside the store just fine, but I notice she keeps slamming her foot down like she is driving a car with brakes.
And her steering ain’t exactly perfect, either. She hits me twice, and pins me up against the wall once.
After that I keep my distance.
She knocks over a trash can — it was the trash can’s fault for being in the way, she tells me. She has to tell me loud because I am staying behind as far away as I can without losing her.
But unfortunately, she turns her head to ask me something just before she gets to the glass display. Everything in this display is glass, and they are stacked on shelves made of glass.
You got to admit this is stupid. Suppose some poor woman with a couple of toddlers passes that display. It could be a disaster.
Lucky for that woman, Ms. Larda crashes into it first.
Then a whole lot of things happen at once. She and the cart are covered with glass, and she is still slamming her foot down and clutching the handlebar that makes the scooter go. The manager rushes up and presses a button that backs her up into the aisle.
Well, Ms. Larda is thinking she will get sued for breaking all that glass, and evidently the manager is thinking he will get sued for possibly breaking a elderly customer. She tries to apologize and he says, “If you are not hurt, Ma’m, would you please leave?” His voice is shaking.
Well, she don’t need to be told twice. She grabs her purse and is off that scooter and out the store with me behind her in seconds. Nano seconds, even. We are 10 minutes away before I can stop her and brush off the glass.
It’s a miracle, but she ain’t hurt at all. No blood. Nothing. Just breathing heavy.
So I take her home and she finishes her shopping online.
The store ain’t so lucky.
The next day, I sneak back over there. I wear a Santa Claus hat pulled low on my head covering my hair and sunglasses on my face. I see they got the scene of the crash all taped up like a crime scene. It looks like not many customers are brave enough to go past that scene. There’s hardly anybody shopping. So would you believe, I start and finish almost my entire shopping list in one fell swoop.
I asked a saleslady if the manager was around and she says that he is having “a protracted leave for rest.” I hope he has a merry Christmas, poor thing.
You too. Stay away from glass displays. That’s my advice.
