At Least I Smell Good

Last week, I was in Target after a long day at work. I was wearing a pair of cute new shoes. I just needed a few things, so I was just planning on a quick trip in and out. I walked into the soap aisle right as someone else was walking out the other side. I walked toward the body wash I wanted and right as I went to grab it, a bottle fell off the top shelf, busted, and splattered everywhere.

Everywhere.

All over the floor. All over my pants. All over my new shoes.

It all happened so fast, I wasn't even entirely sure what happened.

About that time, a Target employee walked by the end of the row with another guest. I tried to get her attention without trying to slip on the mess, but was unsuccessful. Another employee walked around the corner about the same time. I'm sure she saw the distress in my eyes. She told me she'd be right back. I stood in the aisle by myself, holding a hand basket with nothing in it, with a full bottle of spilled body wash covering me from the waist down, and surrounding me in large puddles. I'm sure I looked like a real mess to those walking by. She appeared again a moment later with a large roll of paper towels. She handed me a bunch. I started wiping at my pants and shoes and she started cleaning up the floor. I thanked her for her help, grabbed the body wash I wanted and high tailed it to the counter to get out of there.

Oh, the things that happen to me.

Seriously.