I noticed that one of the lids on the bin was open and crickets were escaping; all over the cart and the floor. Afraid they'd get stepped on, I started picking them up to put back in the cricket bucket. The were easy to catch, they weren't really jumping-just crawling, but the more I caught, the more there were. Then I realized I hadn't shut the lid yet and the little buggers were still escaping. (Sigh.) I tried to put the crickets I had in my hand back in the bin and then shut it, but crickets are very sticky wickets as it turns out! I tried to shake them off and they clung to my hand, wrist and arms like little cricket rodeo stars. Meanwhile the crickets in the bin discovered that they could crawl from the lip of the bin onto my shirt where the footing was good and the living was easy. Now I'm shaking my hand in the bucket, AND trying to brush the shirt squatters back into the bin. Sisyphus had nothing on me. I felt like Lucy and Ethel in the chocolate factory!
I was making very little headway when a sales kid came around the corner and saw me. I froze. He came to a screeching halt and just gaped, not saying a word...for longer than was comfortable actually. Finally I said, 'Crickapocolypse'. He gave a nod, silently turned on his heel and walked away without judgment (or an offer to help). I wonder what he told his coworkers in the break room.
I got the majority of the crickets back in their home, closed the bin and went on my way. Later I found two crickets in my car and one in my clothes, so essentially I wasn't the hero of the day but a thief who shoplifted ~.50 of insects from Pet Smart. Some Saturdays go better than others!