"I just walked into this store and it's already like 'no one is in love with me and I can't fit in that bikini'" --- Adventures in Target
Late Nighting at Target, in my opinion, is the only way to Target. No lines, no toddler escapees darting in front of your cart, no well-meaning, over-eager, red-shirted stock boys interrupting my intense staring-blankly-at-the-lightbulbs-section-session with a prodding “can I help you find something, ma'am?”
I’M TRYING TO IMAGINE MYSELF BATHED IN 40WATT NATURAL WHITE LIGHT, YOU PUNK. Sigh. This ma'am loves Late Nighting more than I probably should.
Minus, of course, the immediate Valentines Day assault at the front entrance followed closely by rows and rows of bathing suits. I just walked into this store and it’s already like ‘no one is in love with me and I can’t fit in that bikini.’ I could do without that on a cold January Thursday night.