Purple Circle

When you go out into the world you experience some really odd things.  It seems that I have many weird experiences at the grocery store, and today was no exception.  I do have to put in the disclaimer that I think people probably talk about me to their spouse when they return home from the store because I do walk away from my cart and leave it in the middle of the isle.  I even talk to myself about the stuff I'm looking at ~ sometimes I've even had cross words for myself because I've forgotten something WRITTEN on the list and had to go all the way back to isle 2.  So I get that I'm just as odd as the next guy, but...
Today, I finish shopping, pick a lane, unpack my cart and wait, because the guy was rather slow ringing me out...putting the Gatorade into bags...which was annoying, but certainly not a new experience.  The first for me was the little old man behind me.  He unloads his cart not using the plastic stick to indicate where my stuff ends and his starts.  That's really not a big deal because I know what I bought and he knows what he bought, but he didn't respect my space.  There's the belt, the computer screen, the credit card machine and the little check signing tray.  The person unpacking can have the belt, but the current customer gets the computer screen on ~ am I right?  This guy must not have taken that class in grocery store ettique school because I'm standing at the check signing tray waiting for slow guy and old guy's cart is INCHES away from bumping me.  I'm trying to watch the computer screen and make sure stuff isn't rung in more than once (because that does happen: "I only had one Gatorade."  "Really?  Oh yeah."  If I hadn't been watching that time it would have cost me $7.49.) but now I have to lean over his cart to see.  In fact, he has a better view of my purchases than I do because he's right in front of the screen with his cart still between us.  At this point, he's trapped himself.  He's come in so far, the woman behind him starts to put her stuff on the belt.  He can't go forward without hitting me and he can't go back without hitting her.  I wanted to laugh at the craziness of the situation, but I couldn't think of a polite way to laugh at the impoliteness.  When my order was finally rung up and stuffed into my cart, I had to stand in the next checkout lane and lean over the guy's cart to sign the credit card machine. 
My purple circle got no respect.