Molested at Target

I usually don't post on Saturday.  But If I don't write about this now I'll have to go into therapy and blogging is cheaper.

I slept in and woke up to birds chirping, piano playing, dogs barking, kids riding big wheels in the backyard.  Perfect.

I quickly made a to do list in my head, because that is always reliable (extreme sarcasm).  I got dressed and asked my 15 yr fashion consultant if my blouse made me look like a butterfly.

Yes, a little.

Oh well.  I did not change.  It's spring and I like butterflies.   I went to Target as-is and hoped I did not run into anyone with butterfly net.

Let me say right now, I love Target.  Now I know lots of women say that but I REALLY love Target.  I want to marry it and have little Target babies of my very own that sing cute Target commercials.  

My mental list first told me to look at shoes.  I needed wanted a pair of strappy black heels.  And there they were.   $24.99.  More Target love points.  Then I needed a birthday gift for my TanMan to take to a 13yr old boy birthday party.  Normally I would head straight to the iTunes gift cards but I was feeling a bit creative so I headed to the camping section.  I pick out a headlamp and mini lantern.  I was feeling a bit awesome for those choices.  Then I passed the CDs and the Glee soundtrack sung to me.  I had been meaning to download some songs but had not so I bought the entire CD.  Feeling a little more awesome.

I was really on a roll when I remembered to actually pick up a gift bag, tissue paper and birthday card.  Now, I did not have a cart.  I think that if I don't get a cart I won't spend as much.  But I am amazed at how much I can actually carry in my arms.  For this trip I was piling things in my cute shoes box.  So by the time I got to the check out I was ready to dump on the conveyor belt.

When I approached there was no room quite yet for my stuff.  There was a seemingly normal looking man in front of me.  He was wearing a puffy down vest.  That should have been my first clue.  As soon as there was room for my stuff he turned to me, took my box of goodies out of my arms and laid them on the conveyor belt.  He even put the space-bar-thingy between our stuff.  My first thought was how chivalarous that was and I told him so because I was still feeling the Target love.

But then chivalry turned to creepiness.  For some reason after he took the box from my arms and I said thank you, I felt the need to point out to him the box lines on my arm.  And Mr. Puffy Vest took that as an invitation to touch my arm.

Not just touch it, but rub it.

With both hands.

Even above my elbows.

No one except my husband gets to rub above my elbows.  And that's on a good day.

He said "Does that feel good?  I am a physcial therapist."

And that gives you permission to feel up arms of complete strangers in Target?

I was dumbfounded, grossed out and in shock.  I am not sure if I said anything.  Should I give him my phone number after this?  Are we dating now?

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 10 seconds he stopped molesting me and started touching my stuff.  No I had not paid for it yet but I had already bonded with it and it was mine.  I have to wear those shoes to church buddy!

He asked me questions about the lantern, where do my kids go to school.  He proceeded to tell me about his son's scholarship to UNLV.  He had procreated?  Of course he had and it had probably happened in line at Target.

I think I was polite though inside I was throwing up.

And as quickly as our relationship started, it ended.  He bought his two large bottles of hydrogen peroxide and left.

Peroxide?  Isn't that stuff used to get blood out of things?  He probably had to clean up after molesting women at Wal-Mart and stuffing them in his trunk.

I was dazed as I walked to my car.  I put in my Glee CD and started singing "Someone to Love", at the top of my lungs.  Yea, we all want someone to love, but not in line at Target.