The Granny Cart

I couldn't do it.

I have a pretty high threshold for some unpleasant things: I can be quite dorky and/or frumpy in public. I can handle a fair amount of ambient noise. Twenty years of playing trombone prepared me well for these things.

But when they all came together in a perfect storm in the form of the Granny Cart, I was defeated.

I tried, honest. After selling my car a few years ago, grocery shopping was one of the few areas in which I had trouble adjusting. A wheelie cart seemed like a fine solution. But these things are so ugly, loud, and flat-out awkward that I gave up after a few tries. I spilled stuff. I huffed and puffed it up a hill. I was almost deafened by the rattling. It was awful.

You win, Granny Cart. You managed to out-dorkify and out-noisify my 30-odd years of built-up tolerance. Well done.

Well done.