Too Much Information

Yesterday, I was running errands, and decided to go to Target. Target is a lovely store, and I am ecstatic that I have a SUPER Target about 2 miles from my apartment. Usually when I go into Target, I get way to excited and buy lots of things that I don't need.

But yesterday I had a plan.

First, I went in with a list. I thought this was a genius idea. Limit myself to only things on the list. Got it.

Second, I decided to carry a basket, rather than a buggy. I thought that the basket looked a bit more chic. Answer: The basket does not look chic when you are cramming things into it that you forgot to write down on the list, and your arm is about to fall off.

Moving on. I decided that my arm would break if I put anything else in the basket, so I decided to check out (so maybe my theory worked somewhat.) I hobbled over to the check out counter and got in line behind an older couple. I noticed that it seemed they were having a very personal conversation with the cashier. I wondered how they knew each other so well. I soon found out.

"I can't eat anything because they cut out all my molars. Doctor said they couldn't keep'a one of 'em." The cashier said as the sweet older couple kind of nodded and picked up their groceries, and scooted on out.

Noticing that her momentary captive audience had suddenly shifted to me, she began ringing up my groceries.
"::long drawn out sigh::Well I had surgery yesterday." said the Target team member.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammered. I guess she didn't know the couple in front of me until they dared to stand in her line.

"Can't eat anything. Doctor had to cut out two of 'em. Said he might have to cut the rest. Don't know how I'm going to eat."

Well I guess you're out of luck...I wanted to say.

"I had some chicken fingers and french fries today. Gnawed on 'em with my front teeth. I'll figure it out somehow, but oooweeee does it hurt."

"Oh, that's good. I like chicken fingers," I tried to say as normal as possible. The whole time I was thinking, you are totally going on my blog.

"Yep, them chicken fingers are good." She said.

"Ok, well bye," I said as I tried to get my things and leave.

I saw my new friend greet the next customer with the same deep sigh and downtrodden look. But I know she was excited because that customer had a lot more in her buggy than I did.