snubbed

I was in Target just the other day in a particularly good mood. I was in my favorite store (not kidding) with a short list, and no kids. No hideously large "2 kid" cart that I can never turn without hitting something or someone. No chasing Claire down the isles. No telling Ella "no" at everything she asks for. Nope. Just me in Target in the middle of the day. Bliss.

Everything was just peachy-keen while I was unloading my cart at the cash register. I, of course, browsed the tabloids while I was waiting, and saw a cover that just hit me wrong . . . it was a photograph of some middle-aged, surgically enhanced, housewife-of-who-knows-where, sitting in a designer dress with the headline reading, "I am sick of being broke" . . . WHAT?!?!

I was appalled. Who does this B-word think she is? I don't care if you are going through a divorce and think your "broke". Come live in my two-teacher-income-world for a couple of weeks, and then re-consider your brokenness! Pa-leeease.

I shared my outrage with the lady whom was checking out in front of me.

"Did you see this? SHE thinks she's broke?! Come on!" . . . .

The lady (late-twenties/early thirties, mother of one . . . seemed liked she'd be cool) looked at me, gave me daggers, then went back to digging in her purse. I thought, "she can't be this rude", maybe she didn't think I was talking to her . . . so I restated my earlier outrage to her. Then she proceeded to give me "I heard you the first time" daggers, turned around and (I swear) turned up her nose and walked away.

Sheesh! I was about to ask the check-out girl if I had mistakenly pulled up to Neiman Marcus instead of Target, but I didn't want to piss her off too, so I just kept my mouth shut.

When I was pushing my cart full of generic-brand items out into the parking lot, I saw to snob pulling out in a Lexus . . . figures.