Um, sure those look great

So, I'm in Target tonight buying a few things...

When I visit Target, I nearly always head to the sunglasses rack, only because I have nearly always lost or destroyed the last pair I purchased. So, I begin to innocently browse and try on some potential new models, typically this process continues until I narrow it down to a couple options and then I stand there in front of the "fun-house" style 3 inch wide mirrors, doing the “option A or option B, 1 or 2, brown or silver” game for awhile.

USUALLY, the next step in my routine is to pick the pair that looks most like the last pair I purchased (the pair that had been either lost or destroyed). But, that wasn't the case on this rather warm and dampish March evening, little did I know, I had entered "The Target Zone."

Unknowingly, as I continued the “option A or option B, 1 or 2, brown or silver” game, I was being approached, from the rear, by “someone.” Have you ever just felt like someone is standing TOO CLOSE, even though you have yet to actually see them? Well, I hadn’t, until about 2 hours ago. Experiencing this new feeling of dread, I uneasily and slowly turned my head from my fun-house mirror to discover an interestingly dressed middle aged woman standing about 3 centimeters to my rear, staring right at me.

A bit startled, ok lets just use true speak here, TOTALLY FREAKED OUT, I say “oh excuse me,” (in retrospect, the simple fact that I felt compelled to speak those words seems odd, considering I had been occupying that space for at least the last 10 minutes, while agonizing over my next purchase (of the same pair of 15 dollar sunglasses I’d purchased the last 567 times). Why was I excusing me? She was the one who had invaded my personal target space.)

The woman is wearing the pinkest pink knee length skirt I’ve ever seen, complete with partially tucked in white oxford shirt and purple flowered cardigan. To complete her look she paired the ensemble with bleachy white socks and canvas shoes.

Why the build up you ask? After, wheeling around on my heels, to more safely face my new friend head on, I quickly note the GIANT, HOT PINK CLEAR PLASTIC SHADES, (complete with red clearance tag, dangling from the nose piece) that she’s chosen to accent her befitting wardrobe malfunction. And, one nano-second later she asks “Do you think these match my outfit well enough?” Now, I understand this could sound like a set-up, there were probably snickering teenagers hiding around the corner, you say, or perhaps Ashton Kutcher et. al. just off camera, hiding behind the customer service counter…nope this was completely legit and for all other intents and purposes the women seemed to have all her faculties about her.

I submit the following for your consideration: What’s a girl to say to a newly found, personal space disrespecting, fashionably challenged friend, under such surreal circumstances? I’ve since pondered what Jesus would’ve had me to do in this situation, and I have yet to find a suitable answer to my quandary. However, I can tell you what I do know. He wouldn’t have done what I did.

I lied.