The Target down the street from work sells Pizza Hut personal pan pizzas in its food court, the pepperoni variation of which I tried last week and liked very much. So for lunch yesterday I ventured out to prove the quality of the specimen of interest or expose its lack of consistency in the same regard. Following the procurement procedures, which were, compared to, say, Burger King, kind to my wallet's prosperity, I secured a seat at the window bar, allowing me a jumbo-tron-sized view of the parking lot.

Among other things, the parking community is a good genre of people to consider if you are looking for a some visually abundant grazing grounds. At least in the Target parking community (at least, because the variation might not be quite so considerable at Belson's) members come in an amusing variation of shapes, sizes, personalities, temperances and most affecting - beauty skills. Yep - I noticed - some make you look twice with wonder, and others make you look twice. with wonder. Admit it. either. both. you've all been there.

Of course you've been to Target. I know that. But you probably didn't know that if you ate at their window bar, you should be charging them at least $50/hour. In my case, I paid them $5/hr for me to sit at the window bar and generate probably 10 times that in cash for them. Methodically devouring (is this possible? probably - I did it) those 4 pizza pies, long cheese string by long cheese string, just advertising how much I was lovin it to the whole Target Parking Community. When it hit me, I immediately felt used. duped. cheated. Am I EVER goin back?

...

I just can't put "you know it" here because it would be cliche and much much too predictable. You knew it before I [would have] said it. But did you know I wasn't going to say it?

muscadines.