so the trees look taller

I have to find a new Target.  I have been going to this Target for twelve years.  I can’t explain to you why going to a Target that’s my Target is important, it just is.  I’ll get to why in a second, first I have to give you that backstory to make this story make sense. 

I don’t have an older male relative I can ask questions that you should ask an adult you trust but that you shouldn’t ask your father.  I don’t have any brothers (none that survived childhood, or that we know of), my uncles are either adorable dipshits and/or should be marooned on that island Mike Huckabee envisioned for people who’d vote against him, and my cousins are all younger than me and we’re not close.  I don’t even have close friends (of either gender, really); Jeremy bears the burden of seniority and if he were my ‘best friend’ it’d be a common law relationship/default consequence of sticking around longer that other humans would.  If I have a question that I’d imagine a normal person would ask someone they trust I look to Google. 

I was in the Health and Beauty section of Target looking to see if they had something similar to the things I’ve been using to shave because the stuff I use isn’t, well, Target-priced.  I wanted a less expensive alternative. 

I’m standing there uncharacteristically minding my own business when an old lady who looked like Barbara Bush (don’t worry, this isn’t the unbelievable part) asked me, “What do you use to shave your balls?”

I looked at her, and around her for the camera crew we all expect when these things happen, and said, “Excuse me, and speak slowly because I’m going to repeat this to anyone who’ll listen, but what did you just ask me?”  And she repeated what I thought she had said to me.  It’s not often I’m at a loss for words and after a minute I said, “Why do you ask?” Why?  I figured that anything that came out of her mouth would be just as priceless as what she first issued.  Apparently, her son sent her to the store to pick up something for him to shave his balls with because, she volunteered, he had a date.  I had half a mind to call one of my cousins or Jeremy and handing her the phone because they’ll never believe this. 

I should shop at Wal Mart because I’m pretty sure people who shop there not only hate America and love China, but don’t groom themselves that extensively. 

I really didn’t know what to say.  I should have informed her how solitary a life I led but I told her, because chutzpah like that deserves chutzpah in return, instead I told her that I burned all the hair off my lower body in a ancient Hebrew ritual.  Trimming ahead of time was suggested.  If you knew the lucky lady’s preferred liquor then using that was a considerate touch. 

My Buddhist friend, Christian, might have had better advice for her but what happened next was that a frat boy who had happened upon this exchange told her what he did (which was incredibly detailed) and handed us both all the products that he used adding how not only lucky we were that he was there to help us (he was unsure of the safety of lighting your pubic hair on fire) but also, he added, “I wash my dick with this stuff and the ladies appreciate it.” 

This isn’t where he hit rock bottom but it is where we started digging because faux Barbara Bush can ask you, a complete stranger, what you use to shave your balls – and use the word ‘balls’ – but if you use the word ‘dick,’ well, that’s just tasteless.  She was incredibly indignant at this point, and I’d have wandered away but I am not a quitter.  I had to see this through to the end. 

The frat boy said to her, “Its not our fault that you haven’t heard of Google.  You asked a question and we answered it.  We almost got away without pointing out the irony of Barbara Bush asking us how to get rid of a bush.  What kind of person asks that anyway?”

I’d have bought his groceries had he incorporated her pearl necklace into his remarks (and told him that) but he seemed like a polite, helpful young man.  She left me with more questions than answers but at the end of the day I don’t really want to know.  I'm torn on the issue of sex education in the schools but I'm pretty sure I know where I stand on the issue of sex education at Target.  They have helpful signs all over the store and that lane wasn't adorned with one that said, "Trim the bushes so the trees look taller."  

However, this reminded me of some things I should never, never forget.  First, Google things and don’t ever talk to another soul about anything remotely like this.  God sent us Steve Jobs to give us iPhones so we could Google things like this and not have to ask strangers at Target about the care and upkeep of the testicles.  It’s just not done.  Second, never leave home without your chutzpah, your moxie or your nerve because you never know when you’re going to be out of your network and no-where near WIFI because I imagine that wherever that place is, there isn’t much to do.  

 

Comments

[Margaret]

Hilarious! I can't even imagine dealing with that kind of question. Like you I can think of some funny suggestions like hot wax!

[patty]

So -- really, you can't keep us in suspense, what did the nice young man suggest to the Barbara Bush character? I have a pal who uses Nair down there, and I don't think that's a good process..