I am familiar with discussions on Reddit in which people ask for validation when something caused them to behave in a way that they now question. AITA, or “Am I the A**hole,” is a topic mined by influencers and stay-at-home moms alike. Often the response is “not the a**hole,” because the other person involved took that title away by causing the reaction in the first place.
This story is similar but poses the question, “Did I just meet a Karen?”
I managed to pull into a choice parking spot at the local supermarket, on the end closest to the store, with a berm beside me on the right, and near enough to the cart return that I could snag a cartlet (what I like to call those squat two-level small shopping carts) with no difficulty. This is a store that I have had issues with lately, because they stopped offering hand baskets and no longer place the carts against the wall near the door; you must obtain one from the return area on the way in or juggle your items in your arms.
Fortunately, I found a single cartlet in the corral, and merrily wheeled my way inside. After picking up nearly everything on my list, I bagged my purchases and headed to my car.
Here is where the subject of the question comes in; I placed my bags in the trunk, when a voice some distance behind me says, “I’ll take your cart.” I turn around, ready to hand the cartlet over to somebody approaching the store, but the person is not behind me. She is in her car with the window rolled down.
I start to smile and say, “Fine, I’ll leave it here for you,” but didn’t get a chance to.
She then adds, “And your parking spot. Just make sure you can get out okay.” I pulled in, you see.
Well, I was rather flabbergasted. But, being cool under the circumstances, I replied, “It’s fine; I’m headed that way,” pointing to the west as she was headed east. I promptly got into my car, backed out and made for the exit.
She wasn’t anybody I’d recognize as important; just an ordinary lady who, on my quick examination, had one of those round-faced casserole-toting housewives looks about her. Think a cross between June Cleaver and Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter.
She met the requirements of entitlement for certain. Imagine thinking to yourself, “I’ll just drive up to this lady and demand her cart and parking spot.”
So, did I meet a Karen or not?
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