I went to Target today with two of the other counselors to pick up stuff for people who are waiting for nights off and get supplies for the camp.

Part I

One kid didn't bring a blanket with him. And obviously he got cold. 'Cause we bought him a blanket. The older of the two counselors found a pretty, yet fairly masculine quilt to get him.

Which prompted me to ask, "How much is it?"

"Thirty dollars."

"Thirty dollars?" You're going to spend thirty bucks on a quilt for a ten-year-old boy you just met yesterday that you probably won't get reimbursed for? "I saw some fleece ones back there."

"Fleece would be kinda hot in the summer."

Didn't this kid get cold?

"I actually think that quilt looks pretty heavy."

"Okay, go check."

$7.99, people.

Part II

Poker chips were on this crazy list. Where did they look? With the markers.

The younger counselor wanted an insulated mug. Where did she look? Everywhere but where they were, apparently.

These things are not important, really. I'm only bringing it up because I started leading them around the store like I worked there. All Targets are basically the same, right? The set-up may be different, but the departments are always the same. The one looking for the mug goes to school, like, a mile from the Target...and she was asking me questions about where things were.

Then it hit me, they're normal. I feel like a weird closet addict, trying to hide the fact that in Atlanta I went to Target about twice a week...or more. And I didn't even buy anything most of the time.

I just crave good graphic design.

Or something.

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