Next time you feel me up in Walgreens I'm going to kick you in the Cadbury Eggs

I ran out of toothpaste again this morning, which is like the second time in two weeks. I go through a lot of toothpaste because I squeeze out the first two inches before I use it in case it is poisoned.

So I stopped at Walgreens on my way home from work and, as usual, started buying all kinds of crap that I never planned on buying to begin with. And because I only planned to buy toothpaste, I didn't grab a basket or one of those weird little tiny shopping carts they have there. This meant by the time I made it up to the cashier I had my arms full stacked up to my chin with bullshit like light bulbs, Q-tips, and Shamwow cloths.

While waiting in line I saw some Cadbury Cream Eggs for sale and of course I had to get some. I reached out like an idiot and half my shit went tumbling to the floor. I couldn't bend down to get it without dumping the rest of it too. There was this old couple behind me, maybe late 60's, and I kind of gave them a half-smile like "sorry, I know you fuckers are old but do you think you could bend down and pick up my shit?" This was apparently a great strategy because the old man immediately bent down and retrieved my batteries and Glade plug-in refills and started stacking them back on top of the rest of my useless crap.

What a nice old man right? No! Dude blatantly rubs my right boob for like 3 seconds while stacking my stuff, right in front of his wife! I couldn't believe it! My shock was so great that, of course, shit just tumbles right out of my arms again. I thought, no way is he going to do it again, but yes! He did! Boob rubbing part deux! I think it was even longer the second time because in my panic, I had dropped a good portion of my stuff. He rubbed the boob with the back of his crusty old fingers for the good part of a minute. I almost threw up.

So what is my reaction to the good, yet pervy samaritan? Do I get indignant and tell him to keep his hands to himself? No! I THANK him. I thank him! For rubbing my boob! I didn't know what else to do. This creaky old fucker is blowing out what is left of the cartilage in his knees to bend down and pick up my stuff, twice! Granted, he is totally molesting me in front of his wife and about 3 other Walgreen shoppers, but seriously, what choice did I have? I could have kicked the old bastard in the balls or something, but I would have looked like a crazy person. "Pick up my stuff old man and then watch as I haul off and kick you right in the balls! Take that!" I probably would have been arrested.

After my second molestation was complete, the old man's wife says to me "look, you dropped your toothpaste too" like she WANTED him to be rubbing my boob. I was like, no way old lady, go get your kicks in some other drug superstore, this bitch is closed. So I had no choice but to lie and say it wasn't my toohthpaste. The old dude was already bent halfway down again to retrieve it so I quickly turned around, basically threw my stuff at the checkout lady, and got the fuck out of there.

I was too traumatized to stop at another store, so I'm going to have to borrow my husband's toothpaste tonight to which he applies zero safety standards and has allowed whatever poison may have been inserted to seep throughout the whole tube. Great. I'll probably be dead tomorrow.

My milkshake... is cleaner than yours

It may surprise you to know that I have a few quirks. One of these quirks is that while grocery shopping I cannot take the most forward sitting product on the shelf. I always take the one right behind it, preferably without touching the first product. I do this, obviously, because the first product on the shelf is dirty and those further back are fresher and less likely to have been touched by the heathens. If there is only one product left on the shelf I just refuse to buy it.

The other day I saw something that shook me to the core. While shopping at my local Target, about to pick up some milk, I saw a woman take out three gallons of milk, put one in her shopping cart, and then put the other two back. She didn't even put them back in the right order! The dirty milk was now the second milk on the shelf, and the fresher milk was in front!

Well first of all, fuck this bitch. She obviously has the same kind of sickness as me, really even more of a sickness because she had to take the third goddamn milk on the shelf (what kind of sick person needs the third milk back? A total sicko that's who.), and yet she didn't have the common courtesy to put the milk containers back in the correct order? She obviously doesn't know what she is messing with. You go screwing with the order of things like the dirty milk/clean milk paradigm and you are just asking for fucking anarchy. Good job Lady, you just put us all in mortal peril. She probably doesn't even use a paper towel to open the door in a public bathroom. Amateur.

So, obviously I was in distress by this milk situation. It made me realize that I really cannot rely on the fact that the second milk back will be the clean one. I really was an embarrassment to the vigilance of germ-watchers everywhere. Sloppy bitch in Target had made that crystal clear to me. I realized then, that the only way to be safe would be to go four milks back because no way is anyone sick diligent enough to go back that far. The problem with my new plan was that it's not always easy to reach four products back to get something without taking the other three out first. So I had to take the first three milks out, set them on the floor, and then grab my fourth, assumed clean milk.

Most days that would have been the end to the story. I would have taken the fourth milk, put the other three back and been on my merry way to the cookie aisle. However, on this day the fourth milk back had a smudge on the bottle. Well of course I can't buy the one with a smudge, that milk has obviously been through some shit. Unfortunately there wasn't a fifth milk on that row, which is total bullshit. Obviously Target was trying to slip their smudge-milk by on some poor unsuspecting fool. Well not on my watch Target! I left the smudge milk on the shelf (but turned backwards which is the universal signal for "don't buy this! It's yuck!"), but didn't put the other three milk containers back yet because, in an emergency, if all the other bottles failed their inspections, I could buy the third milk and just wipe it down with Clorox wipes once I got home.

I bent down and began removing the first third containers of milk from the second row and set them down (in order of course since I have respect for germ hierarchy.) I was in luck and the fourth milk on the shelf was smudge free and otherwise unremarkable. So I lifted it out and turned to put it in my cart, but somehow, before I could deposit my milk safely into the cart, it slipped out of my hands, crashed to the floor, and burst open in a white blast of clean milk goodness. At that moment a Target employee walked by and found me standing there in a huge puddle, surrounded by six full gallons of milk. Everyone was staring at me like I was the crazy one. I briefly contemplated stuffing a bag of chips under my shirt and going with a "my water broke" story, but I was afraid everyone would think I was totally weird for having white uterus juice and might take me to some scary medical research facility where they would do scientific tests on me and stuff... so I decided to suck it up and go with the truth. I explained that I was just trying to get a clean milk but most of their milk was dirty, so I had to keep testing them and that obviously it was their shoddy milk container craftsmanship that was the problem here and not me.

The Target guy didn't seem that sorry and I was starting to panic, so left with no choice, I grabbed the soggy third milk container and headed off to the disinfectant aisle leaving a milky trail behind me. On the way I gave the lady who started this whole mess a pointed look and held up my dripping container so she could see what havoc she had caused. She just looked away but I could tell she knew what she'd done and that from then on she would follow the rules like a normal person. Walking away I kind of felt like a superhero or something, like I'd really made a difference and that the world would be a cleaner, less germ-infested place because of me.

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.