Last night I stopped in Target to pick up some underwear on my way home. I'm leaving for Vegas tomorrow and have had literally no time to do laundry. Having a date every night this week as really cut into my domestic chores time.
Darn.
Those of you who know me well can attest to the fact that I have about 300 pair of underwear. This is a clue as to just how long I have been putting off laundry.
Needless to say, Target's five for $20 deal was sounding pretty good.
So, there I was at Target at 9:45 at night. And I must admit, I was looking pretty good for such a late hour on a Wednesday. I had on my favorite LBD (Little Black Dress) and four inch pumps because I had been in meetings in LA all day and had a happy hour date scheduled for right after the meetings. Thank goodness for a dress that can go from professional to profoundly sexy just by taking off black pantyhose.
Anyway... I am walking towards the check-out, with a fist full of underwear, when I pass a tall black guy dressed fairly casually in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. His neck tattoo wasn't doing a great deal to class up the attire.
As I am one to do, I smiled when I passed him. We were the only two people in the aisle. What was I supposed to do? Smiling a reflex I can't really control. Now, in the South, when you smile at someone as you pass they typically smile back or say "Hello."
This is not usually how it works in California. I smile, and people react like I have spit on them. I once bumped into a girl who stopped walking right in front of me in the middle of a crowded walkway and when I said "Pardon me. I'm sorry." the response I got was, "You're right pardon you!"
I'm pretty sure "BIIII-TCH!" was in a thought balloon over her head and she was doing the finger snapping "Z" in her mind.
So, imagine my surprise when this dude smiles back.
And then winks.
Yes. Winks.
Now, I am not opposed to a good ol' fashioned wink across a crowded room. I once winked at a guy in a bar, and he came over and bought a round of drinks.
Clearly the wink works in the right setting.
But under the harsh lights of Target at 9:45 at night while I am holding five pair of underwear?
The wink just isn't working for me.
Sorry dude.
I don't acknowledge the wink and just get into the shortest line I can find.
Only two customers in front of me. Sweet!
Wrong. One of the ladies forgot her wallet and ran out to her car to get it and the other had trouble with her credit card. By this time I have read all the headlines on People and US Weekly, and have given up actually getting to leave the store before midnight. The thought of having to live inside Target like that girl who lived in Wal-Mart and named her baby Americus flashed through my mind briefly.
Though this is a Super Target so at least there is food... And they do have a Hello Kitty microwave. That might make the stay worth it.
Breaking into my day dream about sleeping in a tent in Target is a really low, "How you doing, baby?"
Is Jennifer Grey/Francis Houseman here?
I look up and see Mr. Winky himself standing behind me in line.
"I'm fine." Dang it! Why did I have to pick the line full of people who don't understand how shopping works? You pick out your items. The cashier rings them up. You pay for them. Then you leave. It isn't a foreign concept! Now, I am tapped talking to this guy. "Umm... How are you?"
"I'm pretty good. You got a boyfriend?"
"Are these yours?" The clerk asks me, holding up a value pack of Trojan condoms.
"Nope. Those aren't mine."
"Those are mine." Winky says raising his hand as if there might be some confusion as to who those condoms belonged to. We were the only two people in line at this point.
"So, you got a man?"
Looks like ignoring the question won't work. "Yeah, I sort of have a boyfriend. It is new." I said very awkwardly.
What am I supposed to say here? No, I don't have a boyfriend, I have lots of boyfriends. I'll add you to the list. Let me give you my number and we'll go out, after you've gone to see whoever you're buying those condoms for. Though, I am pleased to see you're wrapping it up. STDs are a bitch from what I hear.
"Well, good luck with that."
"Ummm... yeah... thanks. I guess we'll see."
Darn.
Those of you who know me well can attest to the fact that I have about 300 pair of underwear. This is a clue as to just how long I have been putting off laundry.
Needless to say, Target's five for $20 deal was sounding pretty good.
So, there I was at Target at 9:45 at night. And I must admit, I was looking pretty good for such a late hour on a Wednesday. I had on my favorite LBD (Little Black Dress) and four inch pumps because I had been in meetings in LA all day and had a happy hour date scheduled for right after the meetings. Thank goodness for a dress that can go from professional to profoundly sexy just by taking off black pantyhose.
Anyway... I am walking towards the check-out, with a fist full of underwear, when I pass a tall black guy dressed fairly casually in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. His neck tattoo wasn't doing a great deal to class up the attire.
As I am one to do, I smiled when I passed him. We were the only two people in the aisle. What was I supposed to do? Smiling a reflex I can't really control. Now, in the South, when you smile at someone as you pass they typically smile back or say "Hello."
This is not usually how it works in California. I smile, and people react like I have spit on them. I once bumped into a girl who stopped walking right in front of me in the middle of a crowded walkway and when I said "Pardon me. I'm sorry." the response I got was, "You're right pardon you!"
I'm pretty sure "BIIII-TCH!" was in a thought balloon over her head and she was doing the finger snapping "Z" in her mind.
So, imagine my surprise when this dude smiles back.
And then winks.
Yes. Winks.
Now, I am not opposed to a good ol' fashioned wink across a crowded room. I once winked at a guy in a bar, and he came over and bought a round of drinks.
Clearly the wink works in the right setting.
But under the harsh lights of Target at 9:45 at night while I am holding five pair of underwear?
The wink just isn't working for me.
Sorry dude.
I don't acknowledge the wink and just get into the shortest line I can find.
Only two customers in front of me. Sweet!
Wrong. One of the ladies forgot her wallet and ran out to her car to get it and the other had trouble with her credit card. By this time I have read all the headlines on People and US Weekly, and have given up actually getting to leave the store before midnight. The thought of having to live inside Target like that girl who lived in Wal-Mart and named her baby Americus flashed through my mind briefly.
Though this is a Super Target so at least there is food... And they do have a Hello Kitty microwave. That might make the stay worth it.
Breaking into my day dream about sleeping in a tent in Target is a really low, "How you doing, baby?"
Is Jennifer Grey/Francis Houseman here?
I look up and see Mr. Winky himself standing behind me in line.
"I'm fine." Dang it! Why did I have to pick the line full of people who don't understand how shopping works? You pick out your items. The cashier rings them up. You pay for them. Then you leave. It isn't a foreign concept! Now, I am tapped talking to this guy. "Umm... How are you?"
"I'm pretty good. You got a boyfriend?"
"Are these yours?" The clerk asks me, holding up a value pack of Trojan condoms.
"Nope. Those aren't mine."
"Those are mine." Winky says raising his hand as if there might be some confusion as to who those condoms belonged to. We were the only two people in line at this point.
"So, you got a man?"
Looks like ignoring the question won't work. "Yeah, I sort of have a boyfriend. It is new." I said very awkwardly.
What am I supposed to say here? No, I don't have a boyfriend, I have lots of boyfriends. I'll add you to the list. Let me give you my number and we'll go out, after you've gone to see whoever you're buying those condoms for. Though, I am pleased to see you're wrapping it up. STDs are a bitch from what I hear.
"Well, good luck with that."
"Ummm... yeah... thanks. I guess we'll see."
WOW Great laugh from that one!
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