Thar She Blows

Shife once commented that some of my funniest posts revolve around Target.

Well Shife, Target is doing its best to keep my blog in business because the stories surrounding that place NEVER seem to end. This one involves the pharmacy counter.

Again.

Eric and I are picking up a prescription. We notice there's not a soul in line so we burn rubber to get to the counter before anyone else does. We're heading straight for it...

...when our eyebrows are singed off by the atomic stench somebody's just blown out of their ass. Jebus Christy O'Malley, who straight LACED it up in here?!?

Of course, the automatic response to an ass-plume of this magnitude is to drop everything and hunt down the culprit. Eric and I launch our surveillance offensive and, lo and behold, we identify our suspect: a grandmother who's out shopping with her daughter and grandchild. As soon as Grandma realizes she's been made, she IMMEDIATELY looks guilty and starts nudging her kids out of the area. Yep, we've found our broad.

Suspect apprehended, there's still the matter of the prescription I came to get. But how am I supposed to complete a retail transaction in funk this pungent?? I have no clue what livestock this woman ingested prior to visiting Target, but the air she laid hasn't dissipated in the LEAST. There's nothing else for it -- we're just gonna have to sit this one out.

I tell Eric that I'm audi until the fumes clear but he knows I'm made of stronger stuff than that. Plus, if we leave, there's guaranteed to be a 10-person line waiting for us when we return. Why MUST he be so damn rational at a time like this?!?

Fine. I switch to mouth-breathing, summon the pharmacist, give her my info, sign the receipt and bolt in what must have been 28 seconds. We peeled out of there so fast I think we left tire tread.

Moral of the story is: DON'T leave the house if you've got unavoidable ass problems. Seriously, people!!!