Yesterday, another short woman and I rescued one of our own. She was trying to step on the frame of her shopping cart so she could reach up to the top shelf in the pickle and olive jar aisle. She wanted a super large jar of green stuffed olives, the economical jar the stores always put on the stratosphere shelf. Short people, like us, can never get, let alone see items like that.
Uh oh! Her cart was slipping as she stepped on it!
I screamed, “Wait!” Then, bracing her shopping cart against the shelves with my body, I held it in place while she tried again. No success. She did not want to drop the olive jar on my head, and she needed her two arms for her ascent and grab.
Time to reconnoiter. Where are the tall people when you need them? We needed reinforcements.
Another short woman was meandering down the aisle, blissfully unaware of the situation.
Pressing her into service, I commanded, “I’ll hold the cart. You grab her stuff!”
I held the cart. The olive lady climbed with one hand, got her jar of olives with other hand, and handed it off to the short receiver waiting for the catch.
Victory! We embraced.
Sisters of Shortness, We Must Unite! (Short men are welcome too. Ha Ha. Fat Chance!)