Dear Sobey’s Inc.,
OK listen up, because we’ve got a little situation here with these new robot-security shopping carts of yours.
So you’ve gone and done it. You’ve erected these invisible techno-forcefields all around your parking lots, and whenever someone crosses the line with one of your carts, the right front wheel seizes up. The cart is thus rendered immobile and theft-proof, supposedly.
I don’t know if you realized this, but when someone has a cart full of groceries that they’re planning to wheel home, they’re going to get a little frustrated at this sudden crimp in their plans. And human beings tend to respond to frustration with denial.
Denial in this case usually involves an attempt to drag the cart down the sidewalk on three working wheels. Oh, they won’t get far. It’s almost impossible to move a cart full of groceries that has one wheel locked in place. In this sense, your program is a success.
But the force of friction has been taking a toll on that obstinate rigid wheel, and also on my nerves.
I’ve noticed that most of your carts have been afflicted with an unusual malady. The right front wheel has been filed down to flatness by the force of being dragged along the pavement. So whenever I cruise around your store, your carts go like this: kachunk kachunk kachunk kachunk kachunk
Do you know how annoying this is? You geniuses up there in Head Office, have you actually gone and tried to push a cart around one of your own stores lately? Do you want me to feel annoyed the whole time I’m in your store?
Would you like me to tell you what happened the last time I got annoyed when I was at the supermarket? That time the cashier wouldn’t accept one of my coupons. I wound up jumping up on the conveyor belt and yelling at her.
“Turn it on! Ring me through! Come on, turn it on! I wanna go for a RIDE!!” and finally she turned on the conveyor belt and I rode along for all of three feet, and then I said “Okay, OFF, turn it off” before I tripped and fell, limbs flailing, and landed in a big pile of tangled plastic bags.
And then that security guard came along to escort me off the premises, and the kid was younger than I was, and I asked him how it felt to be a slave to The Man at such an early age. “Yeah, in fact you are The Man! Look at this everyone, I’m being thrown out by The Man! Tell that to your skateboard buddies, you puny fascist punk!”
Look dudes, how about you disable all the forcefields, bring the old carts back, and instead put huge ugly SOBEY’S logos all over the sides of them. Everyone would love you, plus you’d have free advertising all over the North End.
Dumbasses! You people should hire me.
North End Halifax