When I was driving around New Orleans with a friend, we detoured through a grocery store parking lot to avoid some construction. There was this car ahead of us, driven by a woman from The Night of the Living Dead (she definitely couldn’t see above the steering wheel), rolling along one little tire hair at a time, but also weaving the full width of the aisle, like maybe she was also a little tipsy. She had no apparent destination, so we just sat, for a full five minutes, while she figured out which planet she was on. Hillary taught me a new word:
meanderthal: A person whose goal in a given situation isn’t defined well enough to prompt action.
I thought it was genius, especially given its possible application in supermarkets. That person yakking away on their cell in front of the deli counter? Meanderthal. But apparently it’s not that new a word.
No matter. I’m bringing it with me the next time I go grocery shopping.