Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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On Target?

We shop at Target for clothes now. Because we are old and we don't give a shit for luxuries like fashion. Except that's a lie. Good stuff can be found at your local Target. Just yesterday I spotted a Guns N' Roses T-shirt and I've been looking for a Guns N' Roses T-shirt forever. Appetite For Destruction is the first cassette tape I ever owned. Actually, that's a lie too. Shawn Workman gave me The Bangles cassette in sixth grade because Eternal Flame, was, like, SO our song. Go on. Click the link. I'll wait. It will take you back to slow dancing with your crush. Or not. Depends on how old you are. Appetite for Destruction was the second tape I ever owned. INXS was the third. I am proud of this fact. However, this early display of superior taste in music is instantly wiped away by the tragic fact that Milli Vanilli was the fourth tape I ever owned.

So yeah. Target has Appetite For Destruction tees. Which kind of takes away the headbanging, rock'n'roll coolness factor, no? I didn't get it. $12.99 felt like too much to spend. Serge, he likes Target. Not as much as his first love, Wal-Mart, but he does enjoy an afternoon at Target. Yesterday he spent about an hour selecting and trying on various pants and shirts. Although he gives fuck all for fashion he's very particular about what he wears. Is weird. I think it's because he was a "hefty" child. He still thinks he has "man tits" (his words not mine) and believes certain clothes highlight this characteristic. It's ridiculous, he doesn't have "man tits." In fact, he is more slender than the husbands of most girls my age even though they're a good five years younger than him. He also has luxurious hair and most of the guys I grew up with are balding. I know this because Facebook tells me so.

After an hour of fitting room modeling sessions and so forth, Serge finally settles on two shirts. We throw them in the cart and wander around the store for another hour or so. As we get to check-out my betrothed suddenly decides the shirts are too expensive. They are $16.99. Not expensive. But he says he's not getting them. Like this:
"I'm not getting them."
"Just get them, they're cheap."
"No. I don't need them." He walks away, making the two mile trek to the clothing section to put them back. Why he has to walk ALL the way back to hang them up precisely where he found them, I'll never know. Fucking do-gooder. He does this in the grocery store too. Decides he's not getting a bag of chips after all and walks all the way back to the effing chip aisle to place the bag IN THE EXACT location he plucked it from. Me? I decide not to get something I throw it right where I make the decision not to get it. Not purchasing this tent-sized maternity bra after all? Here, I'll just drape it right across the Enquirer at check-out. Let the good people at Target put it back. It's their job.

We're walking across the parking lot and I'm telling Serge he should have at least bought one of the shirts.
"Nah. I'm fine. It was good to get all that clothes shopping off my chest."
"Off your chest? You didn't buy anything. And you have to get shopping 'off your chest'? Like, it weighs you down?"
"Yeah. I don't have any clothes. Been meaning to get some and I got it off my chest and I'm done now."
"But you didn't buy anything.
"Doesn't matter. I feel better now."