So, I'm wandering through the Target, looking for the tights because the ones I'm wearing are starting to let loose at the seams, and I've managed to somehow put two holes in the feet. Fine. Well, the ones I want to look at are at the bottom of the rack, so I crouch down and hear a rip.
Teriffic, I now have a gaping hole in my hose. Well, at least they're covered by my pants.
I grab the tights I want and continue off around the Target, looking for items to clean skates with. I find zip, but instead come up with other items I need. This has literally taken me around the whole of the Target store, as well as in and out of the dressing rooms.
Its while I'm picking up my Cokes in the food aisles that a lady from Target calls out; "Ma'am, you have a hole in your pants!" With a sinking heart, I recall the ripping sound I heard earlier. I glance to one side. Nothing. Well, maybe its not very big--*
"No, the other side."
Sure enought, the other side has a hole ripped practically from waistband to crotch, ever so neatly alongside one pocket. I once almost pulled a belt loop off just trying to pull up these pants, the jeans are sweetly soft from years of wear, stretchy, and oh-so comfortable. But they areold. And now they're air conditioned as well, and the whole Target saw it.
Terrific.
I hold the Target basket behind my back to hide the hole and continue to walk the store, finishing my shopping. I scoot out to the car--I have extra jeans in there, I just need to get back to my friend's house and change--and find myself blocked in. Not by yapping pedestrians, not by another vehicle, no, I find myself blocked in by...shopping carts. A whole line of them, abandoned by some parking lot attendant with better things to do. So now, on top of showing the whole Target my ass, I can show the whole parking lot as well.
Somewhere out there, God has changed the channel to "Physical Comedy" and is up on a cloud right now, pointing and laughing hysterically.
But I made it to sushi.
Teriffic, I now have a gaping hole in my hose. Well, at least they're covered by my pants.
I grab the tights I want and continue off around the Target, looking for items to clean skates with. I find zip, but instead come up with other items I need. This has literally taken me around the whole of the Target store, as well as in and out of the dressing rooms.
Its while I'm picking up my Cokes in the food aisles that a lady from Target calls out; "Ma'am, you have a hole in your pants!" With a sinking heart, I recall the ripping sound I heard earlier. I glance to one side. Nothing. Well, maybe its not very big--*
"No, the other side."
Sure enought, the other side has a hole ripped practically from waistband to crotch, ever so neatly alongside one pocket. I once almost pulled a belt loop off just trying to pull up these pants, the jeans are sweetly soft from years of wear, stretchy, and oh-so comfortable. But they areold. And now they're air conditioned as well, and the whole Target saw it.
Terrific.
I hold the Target basket behind my back to hide the hole and continue to walk the store, finishing my shopping. I scoot out to the car--I have extra jeans in there, I just need to get back to my friend's house and change--and find myself blocked in. Not by yapping pedestrians, not by another vehicle, no, I find myself blocked in by...shopping carts. A whole line of them, abandoned by some parking lot attendant with better things to do. So now, on top of showing the whole Target my ass, I can show the whole parking lot as well.
Somewhere out there, God has changed the channel to "Physical Comedy" and is up on a cloud right now, pointing and laughing hysterically.
But I made it to sushi.
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