Target cares about your colon
◊ I walk into Target, chanting sponges, contact lens solution, deodorant, sponges, contact lens solution, deodorant under my breath. In, grab the stuff, dodge the families and bargain hunters picking up Halloween shit at a discount, hit the register, and out.
Everything is going according to plan right up until the sponges, which are obviously hidden under the floor or stashed above the ceiling acoustic tile where they'll be safe from consumers. I pace up and down the store, too proud to track down an employee to assist me, and scan the aisles.
Soap. Hair Care. Health Care. Paper Towels. And one unlabeled section that should've been called Ass Care: Metamucil. Kaopectate. High-fiber energy bars.
Home enema kits.
I know what all my friends are getting for Christmas.
I am sidetracked by the hair dye as I search for scrubbers. Burgundy. Nice. Cheap. I grab it. Back to shopping.
Sponges, contact lens solution, deodorant.
Shit. Not enough money for everything.
OK, I can live without new sponges.
Ooh, condoms. And way cheaper than at the 24-hour drugstore. Better grab 'em.
I find the deodorant. On to the contact lens solution.
Seven bucks for this stuff?! That's crazy!
I look down at my hand. Five bucks for the hair dye, six for the condoms, two for the deodorant.
Not enough for everything.
Something's gonna have to go back.
Condoms or hair dye? Condoms or hair dye? Which do I need? Which can I live without? Sure, the condoms are pure optimism on my part, but it's not like I can improvise with something else. And my hair really needs color.
Well, shit.
I leave without the contact lens solution, of course. 'Cause I can always keep my contacts in water, but no way no how would I be able to MacGuyver a condom out of everyday household materials.