Everywhere I go, I bump into strangers.
Not just people I don't know. I'm talking STRANGERS. Weirdos. Freaks.
I was going through a pile of stuff while elfing me and my furkids (see post below) and I came across a Target receipt from this weekend. It reminded me of something I wanted to post but didn't get to. So here's the story:
I'm am a product junkie. Even if I don't need any product of any kind, I will still cruise the aisles, just in case there's something out there I need (new face wash? nail polish? lip gloss? lotion?). So I'm pushing my basket down the aisle and there's a pole in the middle of the lane. I try pushing my basket around the right because there's a person on the left with a basket. My basket gets stuck. I have to pull it back, and just when I'm about to say "Excuse me" so I can pass, I pause.
It's no ordinary shopper looking at press on nails. IT'S A DUDE!
I stop. Turn to pretend to browse at whatever's on my right (makeup for people MUCH darker than yours truly). Then, I slowly turn around to get another peek: DUDE!
I watch, this time with everything but my eyes aimed at the nail polish. I watch him pick up package after package of fake nails and hold them next to his hand. For a second, I think about grabbing my phone and snapping a picture, but decide with my luck he'd catch me, so I leave my phone in my bag. Finally, he notices me behind him. He apologizes, slides his cart out of the way for me and then says, "Can I ask you a question?"
To myself, I say, "If anyone should be asking questions..." Out loud, I say, "Sure."
"Do they sell those stickers so you can do french tips on your manicure?" I look at him, glance down at his nails and say, "Um, I think you have to buy a kit." Then, I look at the products in front of him. I reach for a manicure pen and say, "This might work."
He takes it from me, turns it over, glances at the instructions and says, "I'll probably need help with this." I say, "I know I would."
He thanks me, then pushes his cart down another aisle. I shake my head and go back to looking at the nail polish (note to Target: PLEASE stock the current OPI colors!). Then, a woman who was on the same aisle comes up to me. "Was that guy buying nail products for himself?" I tell her, "Mmmhhhmmm. He needed white tips for his french manicure." She says, "Oh."
Oh.
I was tempted to follow him around the store to see if he tried squeezing his feet into lady pumps or grabbed bras to try on. Then, I realized I needed to finish my shopping and get home. After seeing "Twilight" at the first showing, I decided I had enough strangeness in my life for the day.
And it wasn't even 3:00!
4 comments:
great post!
the target press-on dude might be interested in this...
http://tinyurl.com/6npdox
if you happen to bump into him again at target in, say, the hosiery aisle...
trannies and drag queens want nice nails, too. :)
wow. i'm totally off your blogs list. does this mean we're not friends anymore? or that i'm not getting invited to your wedding, either?
say it ain't SO.
jayme, that's weird. i added you back on there. no idea how that happend!
Post a Comment