It’s wild how many people wait until the last possible second to shop.

Parking lot jammed.

No spaces.

No mercy.

Inside?

Humans moving like herds of caffeinated cattle—aisle to aisle, grabbing anything with a red tag like it’s oxygen.

Death stares everywhere.

“Touch my cart again and see what happens.”

Kids running feral.

Yelling.

Crying.

Zero control.

You start scanning the room asking the ancient question:

Who the hell is the parent here?

So what’s the reason?

Forgot?

Broke?

Procrastinated into panic mode?

Some unholy combo platter?

I tried to be smart.

Placed a grocery order to avoid all this madness.

And yet—

Here I am.

Trapped in a Twilight Zone parking lot.

Already charged.

No escape.

Should I stay or should I go?

Too late. The money’s gone.

All I can do now is wait…

And wish I’d brought snacks.

Stay Dirty.

Stay Alive in the chaos.