Luckily for you, the employee who had saved you had also placed your cart near the back of the line. It had only been a couple of minutes after opening, but the hoard was already pushing its way in. As you watch shopping carts disappear one by one around you, you study the different shoppers taking them. The early birds mostly consisted of ratty-looking couples who smelled like cigarettes, mothers shopping for their family's weekly groceries, and broke college students cramming in errands before class. By the time it was your cart at the front of the line, you saw your match instantly. An overweight, middle-aged woman wearing a tattered shirt, tight jeans, and dirty foam flip-flops. Her shoes slapped against her soles as she stormed across the parking lot, she was making a B-line directly for you and looked to be in a serious rush.

Her two colossal feet stamp in front of you, and the metal wiring of the cart moans as she pulls it into the store. You can't see any of her face above her large breasts but you notice her dark hair tied up in a sloppy ponytail. Looking back at the ground, you wince a little at the state of her feet. 5 chubby toes with yellow toenails connect to an equally chubby, flat foot, and worst of all, she's seriously suffering from a case of cankles. Her feet are disgusting, covered in dust and dirt, and you can smell the potent odor from the sweat-logged flip-flops as it washes over you each time she takes a step. You couldn't stay here for much longer without throwing up, and that was the last thing you could afford this far into your journey.

Considering your options, you conclude that you can either climb up the cart to the groceries and her purse, or try jumping off when the cart stops...