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Park It
Last night, Lauren and I were sitting in our car in the Giant Eagle parking lot eating food from Panera. It's not as weird as it sounds--we were waiting on a prescription to be filled. Whilst sitting there, a woman came back to the car next to us and unloaded her cart. Now, where she was sitting, there was a cart return two parking spaces over, on the other side of the aisle we were in. There were no cars in any of the intervening spaces: an easy job to take her cart to its home.
Nope. It happened that there was a handicapped sign in front of our car (facing the other way, I swear!), and this woman took her cart and sort of wedged it into place up against the sign. Apparently she couldn't think of anywhere more appropriate to leave her cart (or, for you New Englanders, carriage) than where it might, conceivably, roll into my car and, in any case, block a freakin' handicapped space. It probably took her longer to do this than it would have to walk it over to the cart return, because she did have the weird courtesy to try to find a stable configuration for the cart.
Then, as if to emphasize how not in a hurry she was, she must have sat in her car for two minutes before she drove away. It took all my self-control not to get out as she pulled forward and ram the cart into the side of her car. By "my self-control," I mean "the coldness of the night air." Anyway, we found it pretty unbelievable.