Oh. my. god.
It’s all I hoped it would be, and so much more. Two floors of brightly colored, affordable stuff. AND there’s even a cart escalator, like the one at the Target in Rockville. While it was crowded last night, I don’t think it was any more so than your average Sunday-in-the-suburbs Target.
Since I was with the guys, I avoided meandering through the clothes/underwear section, and stuck mainly to housewares, food, and furniture. I think I’m going to have to go back though, possibly tonight, in order to fully take in the glory that is the new Columbia Heights Target. Francesco lives on 11th street, and as we walked over from his place, he requested that we walk over to 14th, then walk up the hill so we could see it slowly appear. I happily obliged, having used this method on my walk over to his place.
Because we are cheap, and were starving, we decided to have dinner at Target. That is when disaster struck. Up until this point, the store had been well-staffed, with perfectly acceptable checkout lines and the like. We noticed the pileup at the Pizza Hut as soon as we walked over- pissed off grey haired women and families with lots of small, screaming children. Apparently, Target/Pizza Hut had underestimated the demand for a $2 medium drink and chicken tenders combo, and the wait for chicken tenders was loooooong. Seeing as that’s what I had planned for dinner (seriously, it was $2…how can you pass that up) I switched to the more expensive personal pan pepperoni pizza for $3.59
and added nachos and a medium drink (another $2). I believe my total came to about $6.15, and I had the most expensive dinner out of the three of us.
After our initial Target foray, VT and I went to Giant to go grocery shopping. He has recently been ordered off all dairy for a few weeks in an attempt to discover whether or not he’s lactose intolerant. (Please note, the correct term is lactose intolerant. “Lactard,” hilarious though it may be, is a mean and hurtful word, particularly when applied towards someone hailing from a state with such a long and storied history with cheese and ice cream.) VT is also a fan of ready-made food, and after watching me make terrible faces and roll my eyes when he picked up some Shake and Bake and noodles in a packet, he looked at me and said “You know, why don’t you just leave and stop judging me so I can do my shopping.”
I redeemed myself by finding potato and onion pierogies, and some butternut squash soup. I also made him buy lactose-free milk, which he didn’t want to do- my reasoning was that there is no possible way it’s worse than his current fix- soy milk. The dairy aisle led to one of the most alarming things I’ve ever seen in a grocery store:
That’s right. Shrimp in a can. gross. Almost as gross as cheeseburger in a can. Almost
“lactard”= funny, but bad
shrimp in a can= sick.