My friend, (not her real name) Tori and I have a lot in common. We’re both married to software engineer musicians. We are both childless by choice. We both have hair that frizzes at the slightest sign of moisture. We both love to wander Target to calm our brains because everything is in its bright and shiny place. And we both have the most bizarre embarrassing things happen to us. Awkward, excruciating things that would cause other people to never leave the house, we find hysterical and share with everyone we know.
The other night, Tori sent me a text, ‘OMG! I have such an embarrassing story for you.’ And Tori wasn't kidding. In fact, I think this is one my favorite stories EVER! I give you, for your pleasure and mine, Tori Goes To Target:
After a particularly stressful day at work Tori took herself off to the Target to wander the aisles in the quiet, looking at pretty things and pretending people didn’t die that day. She drifted into the hair product aisle, looking, as we frizzy-haired folk do, for that one product that will calm the frizz but not leave it smelling like a rancid immovable helmet. Tori’s been using Miss Jessie products and has been very happy with the results so when she saw they had a new product out, she pulled it off the shelf to check it out.
Now, it is stupid to buy a body product without smelling it, especially one that’s going to be slathered on your hair so Tori opened the bottle to have a sniff. Pleased with the aroma, she put the cap back on and twisted it shut. But another thing Tori and I have in common is that we are absolute klutz’s.
As she twisted the top back on, the bottle slid out of her hands and, despite her fumbling, landed on the floor and busted open. Hair cream splattered everywhere, on the shelves, on the floor just as a helpful Target employee came around the corner. Horrified, Tori looked down at the mess and then up at the employee. “I’m so sorry.” She said, looking at the mess. “I’ll pay for it!” But the employee just shooed her away, told her she’d call for a clean up and everything would be fine. And so Tori walked away, face flaming red, smearing the bit of cream that had landed on her hands into her hair.
As she wandered the store, her skin returning to its pre-embarrassed color, she noticed people looking at her and smiling. She smiled back. Then she noticed people looking at her, eyes wide in shock and giggling. She checked to make sure she didn’t have hair lotion on her clothing. Her black pencil skirt was clean. Her blouse was clean. She couldn’t see anything that was an issue and yet people kept looking at her and snickering.
Bemused, Tori dismissed them and turned into the coffee aisle, smiling at the family of four gathered at the other end. The children looked at her, pointed and blatantly laughed out loud. Tori looked down at her outfit again but still didn’t see anything worth laughing about. She looked up. The children were definitely laughing at her. Tori looked at them, confused smile on her face. "What's so funny?" she asked. Then the mother walked over to her, pulled a tissue out of her purse, handed it to Tori and said, “I don’t know what you’ve got going on there, but you should clean it up.” And she pointed at Tori’s leg.
Tori looked down. Past her pristine pencil skirt to the leg the mother was gesturing to. Her leg, which currently had a large glob of white hair cream on it. A glob that had landed UP her skirt when the hair lotion bottle had exploded. A glob of white hair cream that, as she’d walked around the store, had then become a thick stream of cream, slowly making it’s goopy way down her leg and into her shoe. A glob of hair cream that resembled - in every-single way but smell - sperm that appeared to be leaking down her leg as she wandered the Target store dressed like a soccer mom!!!
Horrified Tori explained the story of the exploding hair lotion bottle to the family while ineffectively wiping at the cream with the quickly disintegrating napkin. The cream smeared and looked even worse, now with bits of rolled up napkin adding to the horror. With an self-conscious smile to the mother, Tori hurried herself to the back corner of the store where she knew the employee bathroom was, hoping she might find someone to take pity on her and let her clean herself up.
She didn’t find a single employee in that corner.
She found twenty! Twenty Target employees having training in the back corner of the store near the bathroom all turned and looked as Tori comes round end of the shelf unit looking like she had what looked like the remnants of a quickie sliding down her leg.
But Tori being Tori, when faced with a twenty of horrified faces, stopped, put her hand on one popped hip, squishy napkin in the other gesturing at her cream smeared leg and very clearly said, “What? So I obviously had a quickie in the parking lot. So what?”
Because, while she may not be good at holding bottles of lotion, Tori is fantastic at breaking the tension in a room and brilliant at making light of the obviously and great at turning a ‘Something About Mary’ moment into a comedy sketch.
This is why Tori and I are friends. Like minds and like experiences make for lifetime snorts and giggles.
And, apparently now, lifetime references to quickies in the Target parking lot. Good times!
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me