Shopping with Rachel
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Rachel Lucas shares the experiences of a shopping trip to Target...
Going to Target is like visiting the chimp habitat at the zoo.
I need to start taking my camera every time I go there, to photographically prove to you my justification for wanting to break necks and throw karate chops all over the place. Last Saturday, I made the FATAL MISTAKE of shopping there at about 1 in the afternoon, when the monkey/white trash population is at its peak. I started wanting to cut people before I even got in the front door because was I able to enter the front door freely? NO I WAS NOT.
Because the front door - a double-wide automatic-opening front door - was blocked by a young couple together achieving a triumphant 700 pounds and their three crackhead children, who had stopped en masse to discuss who was going to which area of the store first. Mom wanted to hit the clothes section, you see, but would she be able to find Taylor later in the toy section if Dad was over in the auto section with Ashley and Mikey? There were literally 10 people who had approached the door and would have liked very fucking much to enter, but these clowns apparently exist in one of the alternate universes where actual human beings are invisible.
Most of us stood gaping at the sheer audacity of the asshole family, and sort of wedging past them, but finally a young guy came charging through saying �What�s the holdup, people? Let�s MOVE!� It was kind of hot, to be honest with you.
Once inside the store, I chanted to myself do not kill do not kill do not kill and tried to ignore all the people who need killin�. Did okay until I got to the house-cleaning supplies aisle, in which I encountered a middle-aged couple with TWO carts, which of course were side-by-side and of course blocking all ingress and egress. The woman was asking the man if they should use bleach on that and the man was muttering something about how the hell should he know?
Spot on! Retail therapy should involve baseball bats, ordnance and live ammo (by licensed owners) and custard pies.
Her commenters are wonderful -- here is one from BasilRiverdale:
As a complete misanthrope and confirmed elitist snob, I only shop in places where the clientele dresses in coat and tie. Ditto for the rare times I go to a bar. I just refuse to mingle anymore with the unwashed. Grocery shopping by necessity is an exception to the rule. Once a week I put on full camo, combat boots, and pack an empty shoulder holster under my jacket (been meaning to get that CC for awhile). Then I wrap a utility belt with ammo pouches and a six battery flashlight around my waist (next best thing to a billie club), and top it off with a black SWAT TEAM hat. Given that Santa Fe is 50% liberal weenies, and 50% illegal aliens, I find the costume generally clears the way before I have to announce myself. And it makes shopping much more fun. Same costume is equally good for sushi bars, the plant nursery, and Borders Books.
I would love to have thought of that when I was living in Seattle.
Here especially:
University Village
Talk about a target-rich environment...
Posted by DaveH at December 8, 2007 10:32 PM