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Approximately five minutes after these photos were taken I dribbled coffee onto my pure, white blouse. Like a small child learning how to drink out of a mug for the first time, I dribbled it from my mouth, down my chin and onto the middle of my shirt, a stain that now looks like the outline of my left kidney. Twenty-eight years later, I still surprise myself daily with my lack of motor skills and well-timed bad luck.
My bag is from -- are you sitting down for this -- Target. I snuck it in the cart next to the groceries and essentials yesterday. The cashier really didn't notice or give me trouble. Although that's happened to me before. One time, okay another time, when I was buying a purse at Target, I thought that I was being sneaky but the cashier caught on to me. As he was busy ringing up my super healthy frozen lunches (don't judge), he stopped cold, picked up the bag and said "this purse?" with an unconvinced tone. I decided to own up to my purchase proudly. "Oh yeah, this purse" is what I decided to reply with accompanied by a creepy, slow wink and head nod. That cashier will never recover from my creepiness. He never saw it coming.