THE GREAT GADFLY:

Bull's Eye

Still, where else was I going to find a boom box shaped in a perfect red orb, complete with tinted protective slide-down sneeze-guard visor?

FOR TWENTY BUCKS, no less!!!

Where else was I gonna find a printer for my computer, complete with paper, imaging software and a bonus bag of peanuts, for only thirty-five bucks?!

I nearly bought a stand-up ironing board larger than my sofa for $13.00. Then I realized schlepping it home would be not unlike the end of The Flintstones, when they order that T-bone steak that's so large, it tips the car over.

I hadn't been to Target in at least a couple of years - I'm always inspired by all the little horror stories walking around the store, even if they're terribly annoying. The painted-up drag queen of a woman in stone wash separates who can't be bothered to interrupt her cellphone conversation for a silly little thing like paying for her purchases; the eye-rollingly precocious duo of giggling teenaged girls getting their Ghost World on in a search for retail kitch and "that is SO classic!!!" irony; the disgruntled punk-rock boy with DIY Reverend Jim hair cut into perfect tatters, purchasing multiple box fans with a crazed look on his face that hints that someone just might lose a life tonight; the sweet little old lady pushing a baby around in a cart, who always seemed to magically appear whenever I happened to mutter the words FUCK! or SHIT!; the clearly-somewhat-unhinged guy carrying a big red orb and a printer around, cursing like a mental case in the middle of a department store.

Target, you hoary homewrecker, I rue the day I ever crawled into your red and white maw.

I think I want to go back for a wok, though.