Target on a Monday morning

Yesterday was a very special day for Greta and I; we watched our first Super Bowl together. However, today was a bit different and far less manly. Let me ask you, what is the antithesis of watching the Super Bowl on Sunday night? Answer: buying a breast pump at Target on Monday morning. Yes, today I bought a breast pump (no, smart alec, not for me). And my trip to Target couldn't just be an in and out trip either. So let me tell you about it.

First of all you should know that today in Jersey was probably the coldest day so far this winter. Eleanor was doing school work so I decided that I'd volunteer on my day off to take Greta and go get some supplies at Target. Now, if you ever want to go to Target with virtually no one else in the store, go on a Monday morning at 10:00 when it's eighteen degrees outside. Yet even with only a few dozen other shoppers the store was not empty enough (for my taste) to purchase a breast pump. The rest of the items on my list were easy to find, diapers, milk and shampoo, but of course, the breast pump was not where I thought it would be and so I had to ask for help. Now, remember I am a guy and I am already handicapped in my judgement about things like asking for directions, so here I am at Target and not only am I shopping for a breast pump but I also have to ask for assistance finding it. The closest salesperson was behind the counter at the pharmacy, so I headed over there - and then, for the first time in history, three, yes, three employees came over to ask me at the same time if I needed help. I thought about saying no and bolting into the safe haven of the electronics department, but I faced my fears and asked them where I could find . . . a breast pump. I could tell they were trying not to laugh. Two of them looked at the floor and one of them, half smirking, said with a "you moron" type of voice, "uh, in the baby department." I was a little irritated. After all, I was near the diapers, the feminine products and the generally "embarrassing purchases" department, so I didn't think I was that far off the mark, but to this lady I was an absolute imbecile. I pushed Greta and the cart away from what would soon be gossip central and I semi expected to hear an eruption of laughter from the pharmacy - it didn't happen, at least while I was in earshot. Anyway, I got the breast pump and Eleanor better love it . . . that's all I gotta say.