The Luv Doc: The North American Oblivious Sloth

Dear LuvDoc,
Every time I go to Central Market there is always someone who parks their shopping cart right in the middle of the lane and leaves it there while they take forever weighing their produce. It drives me crazy. What should I do? I don’t want to scream at them because that would make ME seem crazy.
- Pissed in Produce

I feel you Pissed. Wow, that sentence sounds nasty, doesn’t it? What I meant to say is that I share your outrage. I wish I could comfort you by saying that type of behavior only goes on at Central Market, but that would be untrue. It happens everywhere: The H-E-B, the DMV, the UPS, the CVS, the IRS … pretty much anywhere you find people whose needs supersede the needs of others, you will find the NAOS … aka the North American Oblivious Sloth. The NAOS is a slow moving, generally slack-jawed creature whose primary purpose appears to be the obstruction of people who actually have shit to do. The NAOS can often be seen staring blankly into space for long periods of time with a food sample toothpick hanging from its bottom lip. It is exceedingly difficult to attract the attention of a NAOS, short of ramming it with your shopping cart (which I actually have done) or throwing a pineapple at its head (which I have fantasized about doing). If you have ever had the rare good fortune of arousing the NAOS from its standing coma, you are probably familiar with the infuriating mix of innocence and bewilderment that crosses its face at the moment of epiphany. For many, this look alone is enough to inspire homicidal rage, but occasionally the NAOS displays annoyed incredulity – something so unfathomable to decent, well-mannered people that it nearly causes their brains to explode. Even the most zen people are at risk for an aneurysm. This is why foreigners hate Americans so much: Our ignorance, our self-absorption, our oblivion. In the process of wasting our own time we manage to waste theirs as well. That haughty sneer of derision that crosses the face of your French waiter is the direct result of you fucking around lipreading the French on the menu, butchering the beauty of the language for your own retarded amusement while other people are waiting to place their order. It means, “Shake a leg motherfucker, people are hungry.” Yes, we’re all, in varying degrees, guilty of oblivion, but some people are the Jeffrey Dahmer of it. They need to be dealt with. Next time that happens, pick out the biggest watermelon you can and place it in the NAOS’s shopping cart. If you get caught, you can just look up innocently and say, “I thought it was mine.” If you don’t you can laugh yourself silly watching them try to figure out how it got in there.