I don't know when it happened but Target, aka Tar-jaaaaay for those who are cultured, is officially the place to be on an early Saturday night. Walking past the big red bouncy ball by the automatic entrance doors, I expected to just return a cardigan made of tissue paper and to maybe score some cheap, kitschy kitchen items that I don't really need in the dollar bins, but found myself brought back to my college club days instead. There were scantily clad women dancing to music in the electronic department, a guy asking some babe, (his baby) "Do you come here often?", boyfriends looking annoyed holding their girlfriends purses by the bathroom, and someone checking IDs at the front.
You would have thought that my furrowed brow and dark circles revealed the story of my 37 years on living yet Selena, (the cashier at the checkout who looked all of about 14) gave me a quick glance, deducted from my purchase of shoes, Midol, and Miller Genuine Draft 64 calorie light beer that I might be a young woman going through a long day and actually carded me?! Maybe she was just humoring me, (in that case she's a genius and deserves a raise if not a promotion), or maybe it was the Olay Advanced Microsculpting night cream working it's magic? Either way, I think I need to shop there on Saturday nights more often.
How they used to do it in Ohio back in the day. http://youtu.be/PVi8bJFIac8
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