Originally Posted September 12, 2007 - I just felt it was an appropriate retro entry, considering Carol's confession of her love of Targets.
After a crapload of years together, a lot of places have joint memories for Carol and I. Which makes referring to them easier, since we'll both know where we're talking about: this especially comes in handy with Targets, since Carol and I frequent almost every Target within a 75 mile radius of the Big D, and aren't that great with street names.
Case in point:
Carol: Any particular leanings for supper tonight?
Me: Um. Baja Fresh? Always a winner?
Carol: Sure, which one?
Me: There's that one near the Target where we almost punched out the manager, or the other one next to the Target where we bought the baby's crib. Remember that? What the hell were we thinking? Were we planning on strapping it to the damn roof of the car? Driving it home like it was some prize buck?
Carol: I'm liking the one near asshole-manager. It'll be closer to the Office Depot and I can pick up some supplies.
Me: Well, if you need an Office Depot, there's always that Target where we got the whole frickin bedroom ensemble for like 13 bucks on clearance. Remember that? I think that's the same one I got my car wash bucket for like a buck twenty-four. I love me my clearance deals.
Carol: You're missing the point. We don't need a Target, we need a Baja Fresh.
Me: OH! You know where'd be good? That Target where you almost killed us in the parking lot.
Carol: Ugh. I hate you.
She doesn't really hate me. She's just usually a very good driver who made one slipup one day and almost got us t-boned, and now she's resentful because she'd like to erase the event from memory, but instead it will forever be commemorated in my description of this particular Target.
But them's the breaks.