Carting Towards Disaster

(As a young woman working at a big box store, I get plenty of old men who think they can get away with pretty much anything: grabbing, lewd comments, etc. One regular decides it’s funny to bump me with his cart. I usually work behind a desk, but he bumps me anytime he sees me walking through the store or cleaning up displays. One day he is passing me and hasn’t said anything, so I think he hasn’t seen me. Suddenly, he swerves his cart and hits me in the stomach. I double over and fall to my knees.)

Me: “The baby! The baby! My baby!”

Customer: “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were pregnant!”

Me: *getting up* “I’m not. But I could have been. Maybe you should stop running into people on purpose. It’s rude and inconsiderate, and you could really hurt someone.”

(He just stared at me, open-mouthed, for a minute, then hurried away. But he never hit me with a cart again.)