*Everybody's got to eat, whether it was pizza or soft pretzels. The front of the store kept a steady pace after the acrobatic guest tried getting away with a TV. Speaking of food, Lauren called for backup to Guest Service as Daniela hopped on the cafe register to cover someone's break. Even with both work areas being right next to each other, the chasms of ignorance remained ever bottomless when a middle-aged customer decided to show up at the right place with the wrong intentions.*
Daniela: Hey, what can I get you?
Guest: *speaks in a Brooklyn accent* How you doin', I'm here for the Shiatsu massage.
Daniela: We don't do massages here, sir. We're a store. If Target offered massages, sexual harassment lawsuits would fly out the wazoo, know what I mean?
Guest: *looks at his surroundings* I was told the bulls-eye was a sacred sigil, of tranquility and relaxation.
Daniela: *laughs profusely all of a sudden before stopping herself six seconds later* You serious?
Guest: My back is no laughing matter, miss. I'm stressed with two kids and child support payments. I don't even need the happy ending, just the massage.
Daniela: We don't do that here. Best we can do is give you a soft pretzel with three, complimentary dipping sauces.
Guest: Damn it, not again! Astrology has failed me this day. No offense young lady, but what'chu just said is the most corniest thing I've ever heard.
Daniela: *massages opposite ends of her forehead* So... what's happening here?
Guest: *looks over her right shoulder* Well, can a brother get a peach mango smoothie?
*Peach Mango, Strawberry Banana, Target's cafe may not have been the next Jamba Juice, but when it came to smoothies they were top dog. Some guests considered them a brief vacation inside their taste buds; something to tear them away from being a shopper. Handing the guest his smoothie, both suddenly heard a weird laugh coming from the ceiling. It had the sound of Woody Woodpecker, but with a douchey tone behind it. Daniela was usually good at distinguishing weird sounds, even developed an ability to tell what babies were crying about.
This came especially useful one Christmas Eve when a four year old girl wanted to meet Merida from "Brave", live and in person. Being a mother herself, the emotional bond between them that night was as real as performing the same gesture for her own daughter. However, Woody Woodpecker's laugh before going full Road Runner gave way to Matthew calling all Team Members via walkie, announcing free empanadas and chimichangas in the break room. That was when another Road Runner in the shape of a tiny Team Lead bum rushed out of Electronics towards TSC. Yep, when it came to Mexican food Lisa was not far behind.
Put a plate of half dozen empanadas in front of her, you best pray there are more for others. As soon as she ran past the front desk and zoomed into the break room, her eyes lit up with joy and a rumbling stomach to boot.*
Matthew: Six empanadas?!
Lisa: To that question, I declare... why the hell not? They're the greatest invention ever conceived by the Mexi-Gods. We're always having baked potatoes in the break room. Shake things up a bit!
Matthew: Uh, I did when I bought the food.
Lisa: But who worships these crispy beauties? *takes a bite out of a empanada* Pardon my French, but why the fuck are you eatin' a salad?
Matthew: 'Cause Mexican food doesn't agree with me.
Lisa: *gasps*
Matthew: *sarcastically* I know, right? Taco Hell is bell on my immune system.
Lisa: Come again?!
Matthew: *thinks for a second* Wait, that came out wrong.
Lisa: I'm not sharing these.
Matthew: *gets on walkie* Team, Lisa is going bonkers on the Mexican food. If you want a chimichanga, then cha-cha your way over here. Stat!
Lisa: I'mma convert you one day to Taco Heaven.
Matthew: Yeah, we'll see.
*Taco Bell don't play games and especially those who are big fans of their food. Matt and Lisa knew this all-too well. By some stroke of luck, LODs Jim and Josh pulled themselves away from dealing with guests to sample some fine Spanish cuisine before it was consumed completely. This gave Marianne the opportunity she needed to perform some more tricks. There was one that came highly recommended on the list, one that required doing a balancing act with her hands.
It took a few attempts; eleven to be exact. The costumed kids dispersed when she tried for a twelfth time. Once she did her best gymnastics move on the board, she moved at an unsteady pace across Electronics. Giving a quick glance, it looked like she was finally ready to add another conquered trick to her belt. She was halfway across when the board steered with ease towards the torn down Shopkins aisle. She then decided to cut through the board game end caps and ended up cruising along the bath section.
All it took was one glance; a solitary second to see what she couldn't un-see all of a sudden. Before she was able to stop, her back ended up crashing against the driver's side of a car with a human shaped bird lounging on the roof. Her unamused nature took over when CJ was the one lounging with a Spongebob beach towel and a Pina Coloada.*
CJ: *lowers his shades* Hey, Marianne! Going somewhere?
Marianne: CJ... *takes a deep breath before exhaling soon after* WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ON MY BOYFRIEND'S CAR?! AND HOW'D YOU GET IT IN THE STORE?!
CJ: Chillax, babe, there's a funny tale to this.
Marianne: How is it nobody tazed you yet?
CJ: I was coming into work around 2:00. When I went over to Guest Service, Lauren went on about how I was late and I ignored her... anyway, so this Dwayne Johnson rip-off makes an entrance and we go a few rounds 'cause... well, I'm as dangerous as I am beautiful.
Marianne: I swear if you keep talking-
CJ: Next thing I knew, one of the label printers explodes and a SHIT ton of skittles come flyin' out! It was the most bizarre thing I've ever seen. That, and seeing two old ladies fencing with Mongoose bikes a few years back. I think the Backroom sanctioned this. When I see Chad-
*The rug was pulled out from under him, or in this case Spongebob decided he was "ready" to make some Crabby Patties. Who could blame him? Marianne serviced the Jellyfish King's lifestyle by pulling the towel away from CJ, sending him rolling face first on the hot pavement. At least, feeling for his surroundings it felt like hot pavement mixed with the taste of lemon meringue pie. Opening his eyes, they stung with warm lemon cream.
He stood up trying to get a fix on what was happening. To what felt like a dream on a grand scale, he half-wished he never woke up at all. He wiped the cream off his face and confronted an old "friend" with a motorcycle helmet. CJ turned back and saw the car he was lounging on. His heart dropped and eyes widened to who the owner behind the car was.*
CJ: Holy shit...
Damian: *takes off his helmet* Sup mofo?