Target

I found myself in an institution of lower-learning, or to be more precise, of no learning. I was trying to fit in, and having difficulty. My three point seven-five years of college education was shining through. I tried to repress it. I needed to buy a phone card in the worst way, so I broke down and went to a Target store. There’s nothing French about it.             

            Negotiating through the miasma of slow thinkers was a daunting task. There were confused looks on the faces of every day consumers, and no rhyme or reason to their pace.

I made for the technology department. The section of higher learning, I suppose it’s all higher learning to some degree.

I was looking for the book readers in the crowd. I didn’t see any. I was instantaneously depressed. I wanted out and fast.