It started as a trip like any other. I need a pair of khakis, some socks and some gloves for the Marathon tomorrow (today) so I made the trek to Target. Three stops away on the D train. Not bad at all. I was there in no time.
I shop, I try khakis on and discover that I’m a full size smaller than I was before with room to spare (WOOT!), picked up the other items I need and prepared to wait in line.
Now the lines at the Target in the Atlantic Ave Mall are ALWAYS packed. SO I’m standing there with my handbasket. I’ve got my jeans, a white beater, my AVA hoodie and my “pleather” jacket on. NBD. All of the sudden, I feel really warm. So I unzip the jacket… and then the hoodie, but I’m breaking a sweat by this time. So I shrug the jacket off, thinking that will help. All of the sudden, I felt light-headed. My vision is a little bit blurry and my hearing a hollowing a bitTaking slow deep breaths, I bend slightly at the waist, trying to get some blood flowing back to my brain and stand up slowly.
That just made it worse.
So the next thing I know, I take a knee right in the middle of my line in the middle of the store. But that doesn’t help. I have to sit down.
Allow me to provide some background into what I knew was happening.
<flashback italics>
I used to be an altar server at St. Irenaeus Church back home for about four or five years. We’d wear this weird robes that closed up around your neck and this rope belt/sashes that tied around our waist. The lights were often hot and it wasn’t strange to break into a sweat.
8:30 AM Mass. Palm Sunday, 2000. I had an incident where I felt dizzy and lightheaded during the LONGEST GOSPEL KNOWN TO MAN, the telling of Jesus bring Crucified. I’m standing next to the Deacon holding a large lit candle, my priest, Father O’Sullivan (may he rest in peace) is standing at the altar reading the part of Jesus and the entire parish is standing and reciting parts as well. When the symptoms struck, I knew I had to sit down. But it was the Gospel! The Holy Word! No. Have to sit. So I slowly turn and go to walk back to the candlestick holder to put my candle down and have a seat. All I remember was bending over to put the candle down….
…then it all goes black…. I hear glass breaking…. and a collective gasp from the ENTIRE parish.
When I open my eyes maybe five minutes later, I see my priest.
And I start freaking out. Because I was sure I was dead and he was giving me my Last Rites. I seriously felt SO BAD, I thought I was dying. But then my mom came into view and I felt a bit better.
Meant I was still alive.
</flashback italics>
So back to the need to sit down. And all I can think about was “OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO DIE IN TARGET AND NO ONE KNOWS I’M HERE. I’M BY MYSELF. AND I WILL DIE ALONE IN TARGET.”
Raising my head made the problem worse, so wobbling, I crouched my way down and found a spot in the women’s section between two racks of sweaters, shook off my hoodie and plopped myself down.
Yes, I’m sitting in a tank top with my head between my legs, trying to stay conscious… on the floor of the sweater section.
But here’s the kicker:
Nobody really noticed. I mean, there was the associate dude who seemed more miffed that he had to fold shit in the women’s section, and he glanced over at me a couple times, but it wasn’t enough to go “Hmmm… why’s this chick just chillin’ on the floor?”
A few shoppers entered the section. Some didn’t even notice and were too busy picking up the three button cardigans on sale, and some saw me on the floor and said “Excuse me!” as they stepped around or (in the case of one lady) OVER ME to get to the other clothes. And my silly Midwestern-bred ass only replies, “Sorry, Ma’am!” from between my legs.
New York City: what a town.
Conveniently, the place were I plopped down was about thirty yards away from the restrooms. So I put on my best Bruce Willis/John McClane and assess the target.
(I’m really saying this as I’m panting…)
*Lifts my head to look quickly, feel dizzy, looks back down again* Fuck… okay… thirty yards… I can do this… c’mon… *rolls onto knees* Can’t take my basket with me… have to stash it.. where?… okay, empty checkout station in front of that…. stay low… drop it and keep moving… *eyes shut tight… deep breaths* C’mon Sloney… just a few steps…. basket in left hand… *breathing* the checkout area’s swamped… there won’t be a free person to clear the basket or restock the items for about half an hour… *more deep breaths* You can do this…. ready…. GO.
Had anyone waiting to check out actually been paying attention, they would have seen my stupid ass, fucking duck walking/running across the aisle. Basket dropped behind a post by the empty check out, the path of people walking in front of the restrooms cleared RIGHT as I got to them. Like a running back working the gap, son! So I stumble my way into an empty stall.
At this point my stomach is upset (TMI WARNING HERE) so I must naturally evacuate in attempts to feel better. Natural female instinct tells me to hover, but I just don’t have it in my legs to do that, so I sit.
Business is done.
But I don’t get up. I’m sweating buckets at this point and I’m still really dizzy. It’s at this time that I remember from the experience in church mentioned above that this happened because my blood sugar had dropped so severely. I’m a compulsive gum chewer (I chew in the way some people smoke and then chew gum when they can’t smoke) so I always have a pack on me. I fish in my purse, pop in a piece and chew. The stall walls are metal and cool, so I have my forehead against it with my eyes closed. It wasn’t until one lady in the restroom asked another what time it was, did I realize I’d been sitting in the bathroom, chewing gum on the toilet with my pants around my ankles for about 20 minutes. A little girl is escorted into the bathroom with her mother and her older sister and is SCREAMING like a damn banshee and I can’t take it. The sister is telling the little girl to “quiet down! quiet down!” And I thought the thought, but didn’t know I’d said out loud “PLEASE BE QUIET, LITTLE GIRL” because the next the the sister said was “SEE!? OTHER PEOPLE WANT YOU TO BE QUIET TOO!”
Oops.
Then I realize, my hearing’s back to normal and I’m shivering cold because of all the sweat, but I don’t feel as shaky. So, I clean myself up and wash my hands (TMI over), splash some water on my face and head back out.
My basket was where I left it, as predicted, but the lines had opened up EVERYWHERE. I hopped in, purchased my items and decided to get a bite to eat. One of the coupons that came with my purchase was for $1 off a pasta dish at the Target/Pizza Hut, so I got my chicken alfredo pasta and a coffee from Sbux (needed a jolt). I’m still gathering my wits by the exit when I see this man pushing a cart. And I swear I’m hallucinating.
He’s wearing a green sport sandals, green plaid pajama pants, a black and green hoodie, and a black fedora, WITH A GREEN MASQUERADE MASK ON HIS HEAD, BACKWARD.
I thought I was seeing things and about to pass out again, but when other people turned and stared at him too, I knew he was real…
..reeeeally out there.
Sipping my coffee, I made it home with an issue. It was just a really bizarre trip to Target.
Let’s hope all future trips are much less eventful.
-L
