Monday, December 15, 2008

Lesson learned? Don't die in Target without the proper undergarments

I used to work at Target. One day a lady was shopping there and she just toppled over and died. They called over our walkie talkies for anyone with CPR experience to meet them over in the toy department where she collapsed. That is something they don't talk to you about when giving CPR training, the fact that you will most likely be giving CPR to some yucky old dead person and not some young, perfectly normal smelling alive person. No way was I going near that lady's mouth.

I already was working a plan in my head if no one volunteered and then they somehow figured out that I was CPR certified. I planned to tell them that that woman looked just like my grandma's sister and I was too shocked and grief ridden to remember that I knew CPR. I figured it would be safer to say my grandmother's sister and not my actual grandmother because they could probably research that shit and find out what my grandmother looked like. I didn't think their research would go deep enough to reveal that my grandmother was an identical twin because usually people who do research like this are lazy and will only go with whatever the first Google result is. The fact that my grandmother is a twin would have to be at least 2-3 links down on the page so I figured I was safe. I probably could have said that she looked like my friend's grandmother or something because no way would they have time to search for all of their grandmas online too, but I was too freaked out by the dead lady, and the fact that I might have to touch her to think too thoroughly about the subject.

It turned out that lots of people in our store knew CPR, or were at least pretending they did so they could get a closer look at the lady so I was safe. Some red-haired kid gave her CPR but it was too late. The paramedics put her on a stretcher and started wheeling her through the store towards the exit. Well I don't know what kind of CPR that red-haired kid was taught but the lady's shirt was open and her old dead boob was totally hanging out.

It was traumatizing on so many levels. One had to deal with the evidence of their own eventual demise while at the same time trying to forget the image of what their boobs would look like someday. It wasn't pretty.

Anyway, the other day I was wandering through the Target toy aisles looking for a gift for our niece when I ran across something that made me wonder what that old lady saw that day that could have pushed her over the edge. This:






At first glance it might appear innocent. Just some cute dollhouse furniture for your little one to play with. A sweet young child and her loyal pup playing in the bathroom. You might take a second look though and notice this:




That sweet pup is clearly rubbing his junk. And if that wasn't bad enough, look at what he is looking at while rubbing it.




The toddler in the bathtub! I always suspected Target was into some sick shit, I just never knew how deep.

Who would buy this crap for their child? I don't know but I bought it for myself. $15.99 and worth every hilarious, sick penny. I was so proud of my purchase that I brought it into work to show my coworkers how funny it was. They were like "yeah... that's funny. A dog in the bathroom." And I said "is that all you see? Didn't you notice that the dog is pleasuring itself?" They didn't see it and instead gave each other looks like I was the perverted one. I yelled "I'm not making this up! One time this old lady just dropped dead and had to be pushed through Target with her old, wrinkled, dead boob hanging out and she totally could have been looking at this toy to buy for her sick grandkid and it scared her literally to death! How do you think she felt?!?"

They haven't talked to me since then but I think that is because they feel bad about the old lady and they realize they were being insensitive.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Crab. Lobster. Shrimp. Crawfish. Spider.

Stephanie said...

Dammmmmmit I should have registered for this for my elfster list.

Oh well, there is always the wedding registry.