Fail.

And so, our erstwhile heroine returns home with a consolation prize of sushi (don’t worry, Dad, it’s the vegetable kind, not the “live bait” kind) after COMPLETELY FAILING at her mission this evening. In fact, not only was she unable to find a pair of shorts at Target (she may or may not have tried on at least thirteen pairs of shorts, all the while texting her sister to ask if it would be weird to buy yellow plaid shorts) but she ALSO failed at buying something to comfort herself (a favorite hobby when shopping and trying clothes on makes her angry and frustrated) other than a tub of roasted cashews and two pairs of flip flops for her sister. She couldn’t even find a color of nail polish that she liked! So you know it was pretty bad! (Although she did not visit the office supply aisle.)

And you know what else? The very kind sushi people left two pairs of chopsticks in the bag for her. So that was a bit of a ZING as she unpacked her tasty treats. “Oh, seeing the very large quantity of food you have ordered, we packed another pair of chopsticks for your companion.” Nope, just one. Always just one.

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2 thoughts on “Fail.

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