November 8, 2012 - TargetSucks
Target Employees Hump Each Other. True Story.
I don’t work for Target anymore, yet my loathing for the company still clings to me like a dingleberry that I just can’t seem to get rid of. I went into my old store the other day and saw my ex-Store Team Lead sitting on his fat ass in Food Avenue, heightening his cholesterol by cramming down a hot dog and soda. Leaning over his table like a dirty little whore was a Senior Team Lead who he’d banged the shit out of like she was Jenna Jameson. He was married at the time of their lengthy affair, yet this chick’s definitely hotter than his atrociously-hideous wife. So in order to move up the ladder, said Senior Team Lead thus rode said Store Team Lead like Seabiscuit. And him, being ugly and fat with an ogreish wife said, “Hell yeah, let’s hump!”
To preface this a bit with unnecessary information, “Dirty Whore” (as I will refer to her) has a constant camel toe. It’s not the type of camel toe where it’s somewhat noticeable and gets a few random chuckles. No–this camel toe is easily the most intense case of camel toe-age I have ever witnessed in my entire life of viewing and judging camel toes. This one takes the cake. (Sorry to refer to food here). I’m wondering how on earth she can bear it. I am female, and I know first-hand that a camel toe is one of the most uncomfortable things that can happen to your foo-foo. It’s like walking around using your vagina as a paperclip. Not cool. But apparently it either (A) doesn’t bother her, or, (B) she is into sadomasochism. She also has this blank, “I have no fucking clue what the Hell I’m doing, but I like the color sparkle” look to her–at all times. Probably the most eligible candidate for my “Who Wants To Be A Human Pinata?” contest.
Now onto “Fat Slob” (Store Team Lead)… He was totally busted bangin’ the shit out of Dirty Whore, and his wife nearly divorced him over it, until she remembered, “Oh yeah, I have absolutely no credentials in life and I like not working while sapping off of my fat husband’s salary”. So she opted to look the other way while her husband romped around with Dirty Whore.
These two were busted doin’ the nasty AGAIN in the food stock room (Yeah, hope you don’t mind extra cream on your bagel). He was getting some good old fashioned oral lovin’ from Dirty Whore, and the stockroom guy walked in on them. This was a year ago. And trust me, Fat Slob ain’t exactly the “ages well” type. So, you basically have a gray-haired fat dude getting some mouth action from a freaky-looking Barbie doll wannabe with a giant camel toe, in a dark, creepy Target stock room. Picture it.
Okay, that’s enough. Stop picturing it.
So back to me walking into the store. These two are being all googly-eyed with each other in Food Avenue, and of course, me hating both of them, along with Target as a whole, stop dead in my tracks. I look at the scene. Fat Slob sees me. She notices his stare, and she looks at me, too. I smile, and proceed to say (really loud), “Oooh, look at that…bow-chicka-bow-wow! You guys getting it on later?”
After an extremely long moment of awkwardness, I smile again and walk off to do my shopping while the “guests” in Food Avenue looked at them like they were a couple of dirty little hump buddies.
That’s it. Nothing amazing. Just my most recent experience with Target.