I decided to make a Target run after the kids went to bed, and luxuriate in the quiet pleasure of shopping alone. If someone would have told my 18-year-old rave-loving self that at 37, a trip to Target would be the highlight of my week, I would have died of existential mortification. But there it is, folks.  My big night out is going to Target by myself. I was just taking my time, relishing the fact that I could peruse every aisle without a whining child asking for something.  I have a habit of abandoning my cart as I scan the aisles, and more than once in my lifetime I’ve had an employee return the contents of my carts to the shelves because I’ve left it for so long.  I left the cart for a couple intervals tonight, while browsing the sale racks.  I vaguely remember a moment when two teenaged boys were laughing hysterically over something. And then I moved on. Confession: I spent a stupid amount of money at Target tonight. I had that cart piled high.  Clothes! Shoes! Pillows! Socks! It’s been a long time since I’ve been in there, and I went a little crazy.  I pulled my cart up to a checkout lane and started emptying the contents onto the conveyer belt. As I lifted up a couple dresses, I suddenly spotted several boxes that I didn’t recognize. My mind registered words like:

  • Trojan
  • KY His + Hers
  • Intimacy Gel
  • Sensitive Tip

My cart was basically full of every option of sex accoutrements that Target carries. I’m not really sure how it happened.  I don’t know if a couple pranksters filled cart while I wasn’t looking, or if someone decided their intended purchase was a tad too embarrassing and lost their nerve.  Maybe someone spotted their kid’s teacher and decided to dump their stash before she made eye contact?  Who knows.  All I know is that I was DYING from laughter, and so very much regret not having taken a photo. Well played, random Target prankster.  Well played.