Tea at Target.

9 Oct

So today I went into Target for tea, and I came out with tea, gum, coffee, rice and an especially extravagant purchase, dark chocolate Reese’s. That got me at the end, at check-out. I thought, dark chocolate Reeses, really? It sounded wonderful. Don’t be fooled. Dark chocolate plain is good, but dark chocolate with peanut butter just isn’t the same Reese’s we all know and love. Better to stick with the classic.

Later, at home, my lovely elderly neighbor came over with a bag of apples she got at the market this morning. I was stirring the rice dinner I bought at Target, which had just come to a boil, when I heard her tapping on the back door. There she was with a big paper bag full with apples. I hope when I grow old I’m the kind of person who brings apples to the neighbors just because, for no reason at all.

Anyways, back to Target. I checked out the books first because that’s what I always do wherever I am. It’s strange I do this because I hardly ever buy one, unless it’s so shiny and new I cannot resist. I’m really a library kind of person. You can’t beat free. There wasn’t much selection, just some chic lit and imbetween them, in the smack dab middle, a bodice ripper romance novel with a half naked man and swooning woman on the front. Not my cup of tea. Which reminded me, that’s why I was there.

There were a lot of children in Target today. Children everywhere. Hanging off of carts and careening down aisles and bouncing on their parents shoulders. Moms everywhere, too, naturally. Last year I realized one day that mothers and fathers looked curiously close to my own age. It was unnerving, like I could be one of them too. Then I realized it was because I am their age. How weird! It was one of those moments when you forget how old you’ve become and feel strange in your own skin. I felt incredibly light suddenly, after looking at all those children in Target, kind of a “phew, that’s not me moment.”

Orange and black pounced into my eyes and a very sweet smell crawled into my nose, and I saw that I was passing the grotesquely large Halloween display filled with candy and decorations. Would I ever reach the tea aisle? I passed bicycles and hand towels and more candy. I passed more spastic kids and frazzled parents. I saw a sleeping baby in her cart with chestnut curls and perfect cheeks. One couple, in the frozen food aisle, was arguing about something, or rather, the husband was yelling at his wife, while holding their baby. “You know how she is! She’ll talk about me if we go…” he yelled at her. He seemed like such a nice guy, so placid, when I passed him in another aisle. Finally I saw coffee peeking out the end of aisle, and I figured, where coffee is, tea must be also. And there was, a whole wall of it.

America doesn’t make things easy for people who are indecisive. It’s downright difficult. People who live in say, certain parts of Africa maybe don’t realize how nice it is to walk into the store for bread and come out one minute later with the one kind of bread sold because that’s the only one available. I had to walk through a whole huge store, passing things I didn’t need—yet some of it I bought anyway—only to get to what I came for and then have to decide from like 100 different kinds of tea, which would take even more time. OK, maybe I’m being dramatic. There weren’t that many. But it was enough to make me pause and mull them over for so long that decisive shoppers were saying, “Excuse me” to reach over and grab the kind they apparently had no difficulty choosing.

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