The Target in Westwood Village has been revamped. They’ve included a grocery area (with dirt cheap peppers, by the way) and have moved all kinds of stuff around. They built new fitting rooms too, which I was very excited to try for the first time last night.
Do not like the new fitting rooms.
The old Target fitting rooms had one mirror, on the wall. That’s it. That’s all you need to determine that you’re fat and that dress looks like shit on you. One quick glance, and okay! We’re done!
Apparently, the Target bigwigs weren’t happy with the level of depression wafting from the fitting rooms. Apparently, they thought the women were way too chipper after getting half naked in front of a mirror.
So the sadistic bastards installed TWO mirrors in these new dressing rooms.
So now we have the luxury of seeing just how dimpled and pale and wide our asses really are. I was perfectly happy with my imaginary butt. I pictured it a bit tan (let me dream) and round with maybe a sexy, little freckle on the left cheek. The sides of my tush had those little dents that show “muscle tone” (whatever that is), and the curve of my lower back looked like a polished ramp. Woop! Onto the butt!
Todd let me believe in this dream. He never contradicted me.
But the mirrors at Target are not so kind. They don’t care if your feelings are hurt. Here’s your ass! Like it or not!
I came home a bit deflated. And immediately changed into my sweats. The sweats allow me to cling to my illusion of bootiful butt.
Consider yourself warned....