I got published!
The Haven, a humor publication on Medium, published my embarrassing Target story. Here is a link to that story, which I will now nickname "Pizza Baby."
Story:
Last November, two days before Thanksgiving, I went to my neighborhood Target to find some Christmas lights. I had Monday and Tuesday off of work that week as personal days, which meant both of my young girls were at school. A solo trip to Target to do some shopping at my leisure? Yippee! My second consecutive personal day of the week had me feeling all sorts of Zen.
About fifteen minutes into my wild, solo shopping spree, I ran into a childhood friend whom I hadn't seen in about eighteen years. This is a kid with whom I went to school from kindergarten until eighth grade, and even happened to 'date' for about a month in sixth grade. I think the highlight of our relationship was the day he brought a Nestle Crunch to school and handed it to me during math class.
In any case, here I am, enjoying a nice peaceful, low-blood pressure stroll through the Christmas section of Target, checking out stockings and lights, restraining myself from buying ALL of the Christmas things, when I bump into, let's call him *Tim, my childhood friend. Honestly, I have to do a double-take just because it has been so long since I have seen this guy. Tim and I have a great conversation. We talk about our kids, school, our own childhood friends, Covid, you name it.
About five minutes into mine and Tim's conversation, out of the corner of my eye, I see another person that I knew from my younger days. Only this time, it is someone who used to work at my high school, so she is several years older than me. When we spot one another's eyes, we are about, I would guess, twenty feet apart. I briefly stop my conversation with Tim to say hi to her. My waving arm has barely even returned to my side when she does it. At first, I didn't believe what she has said. There is no way she just asked me that, I think. No way. But with the motion of her hands as she asks me the question, there is no mistake; she has asked me "that."
"When are you due?!" she shouts from the top of her lungs as she makes the classic pregnancy swoop with her hands around her belly.
Silence.
Tim looks at me.
I look at Tim.
Tim waits for my response.
I wait for my response.
I literally wait for the words to come out.
"Um...I'm not pregnant!" I shout back at her, across about three aisles of Christmas candy.
Everything in my near sight seems to stop. In my peripheral vision, blurry images of multi-colored flashing Christmas lights seem to become brighter, but everything else around me seems to get quieter and quieter.
Target is busy today. People are weaving in and out of the aisles. I'm pretty sure at least two different people (one of them, coincidentally, a pregnant woman) have heard this entire conversation.
I.am.mortified.
Tim is mortified.
We look at each other again. I am pretty sure that Tim's face is redder than mine.
She walks right over to me and gently places her hand on my shoulder, giving me a genuinely sympathetic look. And yes, as you probably guessed, she is now mortified.
So there we are, all three of us, in one big mess of mortification in the middle of Target's Christmas section.
Immediately, because this is what I do when things are uncomfortable, I try to make her feel better.
"It's OK." I say. "I'm pretty sure the last time I saw you I actually was pregnant! So I'm sure you are just thinking back to that time."
"When was that?" she asks.
Tim looks at me.
"About a year and a half ago," I say.
Just when I think things couldn't get any more awkward, they do. We all silently acknowledge the fact that I gave birth a year and a half ago, but she thinks I'm about to give birth next month.
"It's OK," I say again, trying to make her feel better. But then, it comes out. I don't plan it, I don't think it through, it just comes right out.
"Well, you are never supposed to ask a woman..." I start to say.
Awkwardly, she quickly responds.
"Well, it was also the way you were standing," she says. "It just looked like..."
Again, "It's OK." I say.
"Well...How is your dad doing?" She asks, changing the subject.
"He's great!" I say.
Totally, completely, 100% awkward. Absolutely nothing could make this conversation not feel awkward anymore.
"Anyway," I say, "It was good to see you!"
"You too," she responds, somewhat quietly, still clearly, totally humiliated.
She walks away. Thank God. Honestly, I cannot get away from this woman fast enough. I cannot get away from this scene fast enough. Yet, here I am, in the Christmas section of Target, having just been asked, at a rather loud interval I might add, in front of an old friend and bunch of strangers, if I am pregnant, when I am not.
Tim looks at me in shock.
"You never ask someone!" I say.
"Never" he responds, almost in a whisper.
"I mean, what was she thinking?!" I say.
"I don't know," Tim says.
Clearly, Tim gets it.
Tim and I finish our conversation.
You know what they say, hindsight is always 20/20. What I should have said to her was:
"Due for what? A vacation? Right now!"
Or:
"Oh, I'm not pregnant. I was going to skip my afternoon workout but now I don't think I will!"
Either of these responses surely would have provided just the right amount of comic relief.
Alas, none of these things came to my mind at the right time.
I am stuck walking to my car, still a bit in shock, humbled beyond measure, and dumbfounded that this incident actually happened.
Right before Tim and I had finished our conversation, he had said to me, "Well now you have a funny story to tell someone!"
So there you go. Here's your "funny" (or maybe cringeworthy?) story of the day. I'm not sure if you will think this is funny like I do now, but ladies, if this has ever happened to you, rest assured, you are not alone.
And to all other human beings--remember, it is just not necessary to randomly comment on another woman's body. And unless you are literally witnessing the act of a woman giving birth, wait for her to tell you that she's pregnant. Because maybe, there might just be a slight chance that it's just a woman who is dealing with a little bit of bloat, standing at slightly the wrong angle, and not wearing the most flattering outfit in the world...all while doing some Christmas shopping at Target.
Exact outfit I was wearing when asked, "When are you due?!"
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