What a beautiful day it was on March 17, 2010. I was hoping to roll out to the St. Patrick’s Day parade in Manhattan, but they made me work instead.
When I heard that the Marketeer was going out of business, I figured that would be my chance to finally do some things I always wanted to do. One day after that news hit the presses, I overheard some of the guys at Bagel Boy on Avenue Z saying that they didn’t need to advertise online, ‘cuz the Marketeer was coming back. A little later, I heard someone else say that some other major news outlet was going to take over the sales circular market, because the need exists.
“The need for what?” I thought. Sopping wet messes of goopy packets that got caught in the rain, which people don’t even bother to take the plastic off to recycle the paper?” Sure, there’s a need for that. Needed by some people, but not by me. I get all my Sheepshead Bay shopping information online, these days. Sheepshead Bites does not get wet and goopy and I don’t have to bend to pick it up.
So, there I was filing for my unemployment payment for the week, and these people roll me out. Layoff over. Well, I guess I can still get an after work Guinness.
A parting glance. (Photo courtesy of nolastname)
Well, everyone, by now you must have heard all about the Belt Parkway roadwork. The traffic has been horrendous around here, because of all the construction.
It’s driving me batty. The other day, I felt like flinging myself into the oncoming traffic, but then I figured it wasn’t nice to get others involved in my Heavenly plan. So, I abandoned the plan and plotted my big escape. Here I am about to wander into the Flatbush woods for good.
Goodbye, traffic. Goodbye, all.
Overturned shopping cart, Summer 2009. (Photo courtesy of Lisanne Anderson)
Many of you have just about had it with winter. I never cared for the warm weather, just because people seem to think that they can drag me out into the streets with their groceries. In the winter, they’re less likely to do that. So, if you’re one of those who are seriously looking forward to the coming of the warm weather, think of what happened to me.
Last summer, I had an accident. A shopper was pushing me stacked high — watermelon perched right on top –away from my supermarket home to their own home. I tried to tell him by squeaking my wheels that I wasn’t built to travel on city streets — but this guy wouldn’t listen to me.
As I was rolling down Gravesend Neck Road, the load became too much for me and I started to lean. Next thing I knew, I was on my side and the man who “borrowed” me from the supermarket just stood there. The road was very narrow due to the MTA station construction, so the cars couldn’t avoid running right over the cargo. I may not have a brain, but the sounds that watermelon made when it was being squashed sure made me feel what it must be like to have a brain.
Because of a serious limp I now have, they just keep me in the store holding cans of caviar. Gets a little boring, but sure beats being rolled out into the street where I don’t belong.
You can wish for summer all you want. I’ll be sitting under the A/C unit.
Shopping cart in need of rescue.
I can’t be sure about this, but I think this building at Sheepshead Bay Road and East 16th Street used to be the H & R Block office.
I was kidnapped and brought here to help with the office cleanup. That explains the toilet paper and the paper towels that I’m loaded up with. The big question is: why are they even bothering cleaning this dump up, anyway? The last I heard this entire strip is set to be demolished by Acadia management. They’re just waiting for Citibank two doors down to vacate and the whole place is going to be razed. Anyway, that’s the word we’re getting behind these bars.
If anyone on the outside knows more, let me know. I’m loaded with some of the finest fluffy, white stuff you’ve ever seen (known by the street names of Charmin and Bounty) and as soon as you load me up in the getaway truck, I’ll hook you up real good.
(Photo courtesy of Arthur Borko)
What does that little Dirt Devil vacuum cleaner think he’s doing over here on my curb? This is my territory. Well, it’s a lucky thing for that little pipsqueak that my wheels are hindered by the snow and ice, otherwise I would have rolled him right into that Coney Island Avenue traffic. Not even the doctors at the 24-hour emergency service would be able to save him.
Valentine's Day red shopping cart awaiting the big day. (Photo submitted by anonymous reader)
It was dawn a few weeks ago when someone snapped me still sleeping on the front lawn of this house near East 19th Street & Avenue W.
With sleep still in my eyes, I barely managed to ask the person why my picture was being taken. When she told me that I was going to be featured in Sheepshead Bites as a misplaced shopping cart, I was all for it. Just wish I had some time to wash my face. A couple of weeks passed by and I was not to be seen anywhere near Sheepshead Bites.
So, here’s Valentine’s Day around the corner and who should show up on the blog? That’s right. Little ol’ Red. I’m all dressed up for the romantic holiday, but got no one to roll around with. I could use a little companionship. Anyone know another shopping cart looking for some Red hot love?
Beloved pet shopping cart having dinner. (Photo courtesy of nolastname)
When my owner first brought me home and nursed me back to health, I must have been very young or very injured, because I can’t remember a thing about it.
She doesn’t want to tell me exactly how I came to be her beloved pet, since she doesn’t want to damage my fragile ego. It doesn’t really matter to me. I’m happy that I live in Sheepshead Bay in a house, and not on the street.
I love the way my owner takes care of me, giving me lots of attention, fresh food and water. And although, she named me Achilles — because her love for me makes her heart melt and brings her to her weakest point — I really do thank her every time I feel my wheels rolling.
Shopping cart relaxing by the pool. (Photo courtesy of BW)
People think that because I live in Marco Island, Florida — where the subtropical climate brings the tourists in all the time — that we’re all living the “life of Riley” over here.
Yeah, sure I don’t get buried in freezing snow or end up dead under a subway overpass, but I get no attention, either. Well, that is, until this kindly visitor was relaxing out by the pool and asked me if he could take my picture. My first response was, “Yah, sure thang, Mister Tourist, y’all go right ahead.” But, then a second later, I was like, “Well, why do you want to take my picture. I’m just a shopping cart out of place.”
When he told me that he was from Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, I was expecting some Brooklyn attitude in an accent I couldn’t understand. Instead, all I got was a nice simple explanation, “I just want to send your picture to Sheepshead Bites, a blog in my community. They have a series where they highlight a shopping cart, whether at work or at play. It’s kinda fun and I think the readers might like you. Even if they don’t use you on the site, I’d love to have a picture of you, because your color is as beautiful as the crystal blue water of the pool.”
Well, that’s all I needed to hear. Hot setting sun, heat, and humidity be darned! I just wheeled myself over by the pool and batted my blue eyes.
(Photo courtesy of reader, nolastname)
Okay, so the boss over at the supermarket gave me a slip of paper with this address on it and told me to deliver these groceries. I rolled on over, rang the doorbell and – guess what? No one’s home. I guess that shopper never expected me to make it over here faster than she could. My wheels work extra smooth when I see ice cream in the cart.
Aaah, forget it. I can’t keep up this farce anymore. You people must have figured it out by now. I’m not working for the supermarket doing deliveries. It’s just a fantasy I like to live, because I like to think of myself as having some major purpose in life. The dreams of whooshing around the streets of Sheepshead Bay with pints of Haagen Dazs to protect just helps me cope.
In reality, I’m an imprisoned cart working for the building maintenance staff. Forget delivering groceries to the hungry. I just take orders from the porter and the super.
(Photo courtesy of Ben Salomon)
Not all escapee shopping carts end up frolicking the streets of Sheepshead Bay or telling their stories to journalists. Some get pushed around, damaged, abused, hit by cars, and left for dead.
This shopping cart, now known only as Jane Doe, was found on the sidewalk under the Sheepshead Bay Road train station overpass. An eyewitness said he saw this shopping cart cahorting with the two drunken revellers from last week. Another eyewitness told us that this cart was just a hard working cafe table. If anyone is able to do a positive I.D. of this sad cart, we might be able to find her next of kin.
