Off- Target
A few weeks ago I had some time to kill before work, so I decided to go to Target. I felt compelled to go to Target that day, but I was not sure why. On this particular day, everything had been going smoothly with no surprises or delays. I pulled into the parking lot, locked my doors (after I got out of the car this time) and began my journey towards the entrance of the store. It had been a good day so far, and I noticed that I inadvertantly began to strut: not cocky, mostly just walking with a dash of "I'm rather awesome, so take notice" and, possibly, a hint of sass. I swear, I don't have an ego problem, just F.Y.I.
A few moments later I arrived to the entrance and, naturally, I selected to enter the store through the automatic door instead of the regular doors. I mean, when given the choice, who wouldn't go through the automatic doors? It's like choosing to go through a regular door instead of those glass doors that spin in a circle. Who chooses the regular doors? Nobody. I watched a woman go through the automatic doors before me, which I believed to be a good indication that the doors were working properly. As I approached the doors, they became alarmingly stubborn and did not immediately open. Some automatic doors can be tricky, with a second delay before the sensor detects your presence. With this in mind, I waited. And waited. It had been 2 full seconds. Was I too light for the weight sensor? Don't ge me wrong, I know there are plenty of gentlemen with bigger biceps and broader shoulders than me, but I'm also relatively certain I weigh more than 15 pounds. Seconds 3 and 4 had passed and I began to perspire. A slight sensation of panic began to set in. Others were coming and going in and out of the store through the regular doors since I was blocking the automatic doors. Person after person stared at me as they walked by. Some stared out of curiousity, others gave a disgusted glare. I thought to myself "Do I give up? Should I go through the regular door?" My head told me yes, but my heart told me no. I chose the automatic door route. I had to stay the course. Each second now felt like an eternity longer than the one before it. I wiped my brow, the sweating levels increased. My blood pressure in this moment read 257/176. If embarrassment were a poison, I surely would have been dead. I stood there dumbfounded, with no end to this predicament in sight. After 10 full seconds (this is a rough estimate of course, but it seemed like a decade. Maybe longer.) I finally had an idea, a way out of this situation. I decided to bring out the twelve year old child from within: I bent my knees at a 90 degree angle and jumped straight up into the air. This was the moment in my life when I realized that I have a mere 4 inch vertical, which is rather disheartening.
Moving on, the next event that took place was one of the most joyous moments for anyone in all the world: When I landed, the doors finally opened! The 747 filled with stress had been cleared for takeoff and lifted all of it's weight off of my shoulders. I could go inside! It was as though the doors to the promised land had been opened for me (however, if Target were any sort of promised land, that would be overwhelmingly disappointing). Undoubtedly with the look of a crazed man etched on my face, I made a quick dash to get through the doors before they closed again. I am unsure of this to this day, but my awkwardly grand "dash & stop" entrance into the store may have looked like a horrid attempt at interpretive dance. Thank God Target doesn't have greeters like Wal-Mart, because I most likely would have given that poor soul a heart attack. I had made it. I was inside Target.
After a moment or two of recollection, after all the stress and sweating with the door incident, I realized two things about myself: 1. Don't strut. Ever. You will end up looking like an idiot. 2. The excessive amount of perspiration reminded me that I hadn't put on deodorant that day. I now knew why I came to Target, and knew exactly what I was going to buy.
A few moments later I arrived to the entrance and, naturally, I selected to enter the store through the automatic door instead of the regular doors. I mean, when given the choice, who wouldn't go through the automatic doors? It's like choosing to go through a regular door instead of those glass doors that spin in a circle. Who chooses the regular doors? Nobody. I watched a woman go through the automatic doors before me, which I believed to be a good indication that the doors were working properly. As I approached the doors, they became alarmingly stubborn and did not immediately open. Some automatic doors can be tricky, with a second delay before the sensor detects your presence. With this in mind, I waited. And waited. It had been 2 full seconds. Was I too light for the weight sensor? Don't ge me wrong, I know there are plenty of gentlemen with bigger biceps and broader shoulders than me, but I'm also relatively certain I weigh more than 15 pounds. Seconds 3 and 4 had passed and I began to perspire. A slight sensation of panic began to set in. Others were coming and going in and out of the store through the regular doors since I was blocking the automatic doors. Person after person stared at me as they walked by. Some stared out of curiousity, others gave a disgusted glare. I thought to myself "Do I give up? Should I go through the regular door?" My head told me yes, but my heart told me no. I chose the automatic door route. I had to stay the course. Each second now felt like an eternity longer than the one before it. I wiped my brow, the sweating levels increased. My blood pressure in this moment read 257/176. If embarrassment were a poison, I surely would have been dead. I stood there dumbfounded, with no end to this predicament in sight. After 10 full seconds (this is a rough estimate of course, but it seemed like a decade. Maybe longer.) I finally had an idea, a way out of this situation. I decided to bring out the twelve year old child from within: I bent my knees at a 90 degree angle and jumped straight up into the air. This was the moment in my life when I realized that I have a mere 4 inch vertical, which is rather disheartening.
Moving on, the next event that took place was one of the most joyous moments for anyone in all the world: When I landed, the doors finally opened! The 747 filled with stress had been cleared for takeoff and lifted all of it's weight off of my shoulders. I could go inside! It was as though the doors to the promised land had been opened for me (however, if Target were any sort of promised land, that would be overwhelmingly disappointing). Undoubtedly with the look of a crazed man etched on my face, I made a quick dash to get through the doors before they closed again. I am unsure of this to this day, but my awkwardly grand "dash & stop" entrance into the store may have looked like a horrid attempt at interpretive dance. Thank God Target doesn't have greeters like Wal-Mart, because I most likely would have given that poor soul a heart attack. I had made it. I was inside Target.
After a moment or two of recollection, after all the stress and sweating with the door incident, I realized two things about myself: 1. Don't strut. Ever. You will end up looking like an idiot. 2. The excessive amount of perspiration reminded me that I hadn't put on deodorant that day. I now knew why I came to Target, and knew exactly what I was going to buy.
Chris,
ReplyDeleteReading this made me laugh and think of the good stories we would make up at work. I miss you bro... Good luck with the automatic doors at Target, Walmart and elsewhere, they can be tricky!