Getting short and Roller Derby...

Our time in the Phoenix area is getting short; soon, we'll be heading back towards the Tropical Tip.  We have some errands to run, places to go, and stuff to get.  Much of it seems mundane... the variety of catfood little Izzy likes best is better here than anywhere else we've traveled; yeah, we'll stock up.  No stocking up on food for the human occupants; we try to get back home with the fridge about empty (less to cart back to the house).  Still, there are day-to-day items one needs.

We made a stop at Costco today.  Not a lot we need, but it is a treat to shop there once in a while.  Well, most days.  Apparently, the word is out that we're about to leave... I equate it with Roller Derby.

What?

In Roller Derby, there are those who try to score and those whose job is: blocker.  The role of the blockers is to try to keep things bunched up and keep the other team from scoring.  Joan and I are trying to score - if we can get in, get through the aisles, get what we need, get checked out, and get out, that is a big score.

The blockers have an unfair advantage.  I believe they are communicating with a central command that has at its disposal: cars, trucks, pedestrians, people pushing shopping carts, road construction workers, etc, etc.

(Sound of radio crackle) "This is Central Command.  The subjects are on the move, driving south on Loop 101.  Car 87, Car 112, Truck 16, move into position.  Senior Citizen Patrol, stand by to clog the Thomas Road Exit, westbound.  Move, people, move!"

They think we don't know, but I can see them taking position... not unlike seeing the Indians lined up all along the ridge when the wagon trains came through.  Well, except we have no provision to "circle up" to protect ourselves.  Armed only with a GPS (that may or may not be on our side), we are ready to detour without notice.

Oh, I see them scrambling when I may a move they didn't plan for.  When they can see I'm heading for a "target rich environment" like Costco, they come flocking in from all directions.  (Sound of radio crackle) "Get those shopping carts into parking spaces - we need to herd them to the parking spot of OUR choice for maximum blocking effectiveness!  Mother with kids - you need to get that stroller in front of them.  Don't worry, he'll stop - he almost always does!  And if he doesn't, the kid's a dummy.  (Not sure if he means not a real kid or the kid isn't too bright?)  Shopping carts to the left, shopping carts to the right!!  Flank them!  Go!! Go!! Go!!"

We manage to find a spot by taking a side aisle; they didn't expect that.  It is important to mix it up - don't always park in the same area.

Unfortunately, once we are in the store, we are hopelessly outnumbered... there are hundreds, maybe thousands of unattended shopping carts... most parked sideways across the aisle.  Joan and I split up for a bit - I act as the decoy while she pushes our cart in a zig-zag pattern... they aren't messing with amateurs here.

It works!  Joan is able to get to the first item we need, while I duck into a display tent and attempt to throw my voice across the aisle.  They aren't fooled.  Joan rams an old woman's cart (they don't fool us, either; that is an Arizona Cardinals linebacker dressed as an old woman), running them into a display of 55 gallon peanut butter jars.  Joan snags the next item!  We are on a roll!

We leave them in our dust while we scramble for the next two items, but they have the advantage in numbers as we head for the check out lines... the bastards have shut the lines down to 2, and have 50 carts in each line.  We accept our fate.

Once through the line, I say loudly, "I have to use the bathroom."  When all the blockers with shopping carts head for the restrooms, Joan and I sprint for the door.  This is not our first BBQ.  (That reminds me, do we the need a case of BBQ sauce?  No?  OK, nevermind.)

On the way to the car, they are lining up behind us.  I had planned my escape at this spot - I am parked up against a curb with an island... they weren't expecting me to jump the curb and roar out forward.  Just down the parking lot a ways, I drop Joan off at the shoe store, as I execute a 180º bootlegger turn.  I laugh at them as I skid into a slot near the door at Sports Authority.

I marvel at my luck: there is almost no one in Sports Authority.  On the down side: they didn't have the Croakie (sunglasses leash) I was looking for.  I loudly ask, "Where are the kayaks?" and see 18 people with shopping carts and baby strollers heading for the kayaks.  "This is too easy," I think to myself as I run back to the car.  They had already diverted most of their assets from the shoe store, so I was able to get back there (less than a block) in mere minutes.

Joan found the shoes she wanted, but it gave them time to regroup.  I saw the guy talking into his watch as we exited the shoe store.  I said, "Let's go to Panda Express for lunch."

I heard him say, "Panda Express - cue the school bus!"

We were barely out of the parking lot when 200+ teenagers piled out of the school bus.  I don't know how they got that many in there - maybe it is for a Clown School??

Fooled them again!  Of course, they thought I was talking about the Panda Express within sight of us, we squealed the tires and headed for the Panda Express a scant 7 miles up the road.  I thought we were clear, but it is hard to fight their endless resources: 8 tractor/trailers, a lawn service truck with a rickety trailer spewing tree branches, and an old VW bus full of nuns block all the lanes.

They didn't expect me to go for the median.  I am not above breaking every traffic law to escape their clutches.  We caused more crashes than the final scene in the Blues Brothers, but we made it to the Panda Express and pulled into a parking spot right in front of the door... "Take that, bitches!!"

There's more as the day progresses... but, it gets kinda crazy.  You probably wouldn't believe me.