July 2024: The Shopping Cart

Here we go again.

A(nother) inconvenience transformed into today’s front-page news via my grandmother’s temper.

Today’s headline: a bright yellow, Dollar General shopping cart has somehow made its way onto Grandma’s lawn. Don’t ask me how these things happen. Sometimes I think I only exist to give the universe a laugh.

Grandma, however, is not laughing.

Frozen in her living room looking at the “crime” scene through her bay window, her eyes are locked like a flame, full of unspoken fury. When she finally moves, it’s slow and decisive like a snake- focused with a scheme. She makes a show out of grabbing her cellphone on the coffee table.

“Grandma, please don’t make a big deal-”

“Quiet, you!” She interrupts my plea in a fast, sharp tone as she dials the number of her victim. Her words are knives that need no loud volume or deadly intonation when she gets like this. She puts the call on speaker, and I brace myself for the confrontation.

“Dollar ‘eneral, Elkins. How’s I can help ye?” His Appalachian dialect proves he’s a local, but his tone… It’s unmistakable: a mix of distracted energy and a touch of irritation- classic teenage customer service. Poor kid doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.

“Who is it I’m speakin to?” Her dialect picks up to match his.

“‘Is Matt, ma’am.”

“Matt, this is Janet Sue Pickins. You all’s down there at the Generals have screwed me over for the last fuckin’ time-”

Shock takes over as I take a step towards her, “Grandma-”

But I’m slapped on the shoulder and given the pointed index finger- a sign to mind my own business or else.

“There’s a goddamn, brigh’ yellur buggy in MY lawn!”

“What’s ye want me to do ‘bout it?”

He’s done it now.

“I WANTS YOU TO GETS THIS SHIT OFF MY PROPERTY!” Grandma yells as her face turns redder than a warning sign.

Matt takes a second to craft his response, “Ma’am, this here line’s for shoppin’ qwerstions. I thinks ye needs to be transfers to… returns.”

“Well then transfer me, goddamnit!” Grandma shakes her head and rolls her eyes in dramatic fashion.

–

Dollar General, Elkins, must have transferred Grandma to every teenage employee they had. Each one got ‘motherfucked’ and cursed; not even the janitor was spared in the slaughter.

One would think a 75 year old woman would get tired yelling at so many people, but Grandma’s energy carried from one employee to the next with the same anger and intent as the first. She was on a mission to let them all know they had, indeed, “screwed her over the last fuckin’ time” (even if they didn’t do it and had never “screwed her over” before…)

As for me, I gave up and sat down in the bay window. Looking back and forth between my angry grandma and the impassive cart.