Postcard from the Edge

Today, I paid a visit to my friendly, neighborhood Target.  *grits teeth*

I've never been closer to a Target than I am now, and I am a Target fan.  Big time.  In less than 10 minutes, I can be parked in the garage of a brand new, state of the art shopping plaza in the Bronx, full of big-box stores that make me smile.  (Shopping is my sport.  Pretty much my only sport.)

Today, the stars aligned as I pulled into my fabulous parking spot.  I'd had a productive morning, my house was already clean (guest inspired cleaning-frenzy this weekend) and my darling daughter, who only ever wants to visit the toy section, had fallen asleep in her seat.  

Why was this so amazing?  Because I can't remember the last time I've had a beautiful, unclaimed afternoon roll out the red carpet of commercialism and invite me to peruse a store in blissful, shopping euphoria.  I'm either in a hurry, have a gigantic list, or I have the product of Disney Princess propaganda chanting, 'I want a video, Mommy.  A video. A princess video.  Mommy?  MOMMY? MOMMY!!!! A VIDEO!!!!!!'.  This was a good day.

Unfortunately for me, I'd forgotten one important fact.

For whatever reason, everyone in the entire New York City area who has the potential to make me want to hit things (or them) with a baseball bat shops at this Target.

I have reason to believe these incredibly annoying people may even live there.   I say that because, is there any other reason that seemingly normal adults would sit down in the bedding aisle with their Starbucks coffee and simply settle in for a good gossip session with their friend (who is also sitting in the aisle, coffee in hand)?

Of course, if they LIVE at the Target, then that's like entertaining in the living room.  At any rate, when two (or more) people are already sitting in the aisle, carts don't fit so well.  The only thing that could be worse is when they interrupt their intense conversation to look at you - struggling to navigate their splayed legs - like you have no business being there.   I guess if someone decided to show up in my living room with a shopping cart, I would look at them funny, too. 

Unfortunately, the 'lived in' feel of this Target does not end in the 'aisle as living room'.  We also have 'aisle as park'.   I don't know about you, but there is something beautiful about a dad taking some time to teach his young son how to play baseball.  Somehow, I don't find it quite so sweet when I'm forced to dodge said baseball in my attempt to pick out laundry soap.  Yes, I've actually been hit with a ball while shopping at this Target.  I've also had to walk around people that set up folding lawn chairs in the clothing department.   Still, like the good Canadian girl that I am, I persevere. 

Today, I snapped.

I don't know if it was the lady who pushed passed me to take the fitting room that I'd been so patiently waiting for, or the cashier that carried on an entire conversation with another 'happy, helpful' Target employee while I waited for her to acknowledge my existence.  (In her defense, I may have somehow become invisible for a moment.) 

Today, I used my stroller as a weapon in the 'War on Ignorance'.  The too-cool for humanity college kid dressed like an Easter egg in head to toe Polo had no idea what he was in for when he tangled with me.  Sure, not my proudest moment, but it felt good.  So good:  

It was the second time in approximately 30 seconds that he made me see red.  (It was an elevator altercation.)  I almost couldn't get on the elevator in the first place, because he thought it was funny to plant himself in the middle of the elevator and watch me struggle to navigate the stroller around him.  The doors almost closed on me (tee hee), and I'd run into the wall of the elevator twice (snicker), and he looked on in amusement.   Seconds later when the doors opened onto my floor and I couldn't get around him AGAIN, things changed.

The elevator had other people on it.  People that had all moved to help me get by.  Mr. Winning-Personality wasn't alone, and he and his friend, Mr. Stupid-Shirt found me hilarious.

"Ahem.  Excuse me.", said the polite Canadian (me).  "Excuse me!" (A little louder).

Now, I know he heard me, because at that point he looked at his friend, rolled his eyes, and laughed conspiratorially.

I could see the doors closing, and while everyone else on the elevator was willing to move for me, they weren't going to extend any more effort than was absolutely necessary.  For all I know, they were all on their way to a Sweet 16 party in the electronics department. 

There was simply no way around him that I could see.  So I went through him.

Less than 10 seconds later, when my haze of indignation had subsided, I was (happily) out of the elevator, and my new friends were cowering in the corner.   Apparently stroller wheels to the ankles are enough to make even the personification of coolness get moving.

So, what's the moral to this story?  I have to find a new Target now - I don't think I can handle visiting this one again, regardless of how convenient it is.  That means I could pop up anywhere.

So remember, if ever you find yourself holding a PTA meeting in the Lawn and Garden section of your local Target, and you see a woman coming down the aisle pushing a cart with a kid wearing a tiara, you'd probably be best off to simply consider your meeting 'adjourned'.