I realize post-apocalyptic Pulitzer Sunday actually pales in comparison to black Friday, but only because there is less to buy.
On Friday I was thinking, this is going to be one heck of a weekend. The weather is supposed to be gorge, we are picnicking with friends, crew cuts is opening in my neighborhood and Lilly Pulitzer for Target is launching Sunday. Talk about a euphoric bubble. Good weather, great shopping, bliss.
As you can imagine, all went well at the opening of crew cuts. Mothers and fathers (yes, I watched a sweet Dad walk his daughter around and make her try on clothes) bought their children full-priced clothing, children ate cupcakes and butterflies flew around while Bob Marley played in the background. (okay, not all of that happened, but most of it)
Then Sunday rolled around with lots of promise. I knew the race for LP would be fierce, so in the days leading up to it, I trained. I picked my partner, watched the LP party on the Target website 17 times minimum, marveled at the fun they were having wearing those clothes, drinking from those fancy clinks, and talking to Big. I scoured the look book countless times and hearted everything. I insisted we both make our favorites list, and figure out our plan to divide and conquer. I knew it would take an extreme level of focus and precision to come away from this launch with a cart full of treasure. And then my friend texted to cancel. What? Is this too intense for you? (I found it in my heart to forgive her) Needless to say, I was still going to camo-up and get to Target.
As excited as I was, I didn’t leave my house until 7:25, which put me pulling into the parking lot at 7:40, twenty minutes til launch. Surprisingly, and without satellite images to affirm my decision like the lady behind me (I’m not kidding here), I picked a fantastic location. I was, by quick count, the 25th person in line. My odds were good. I knew what I wanted, my priority list was memorized and I’m fast (I have the Hershey’s Track Meet certificate to prove it). Besides, some of these people brought their children, they are going to be SLOW, those kids were too young for the mission so I knew they’d be slowing those ladies down. In my mind, they were already eliminated.
It was two minutes until 8:00 when a nice woman came out to explain to the crowd where all the merchandise was located in the store, which irked me a little bit because I had already done my research in advance (thanks @thekeytochic). I knew where all the merch would be, and here she was making it a level playing field. Whatevs. It’s go time, they open, and the pack begins to move swiftly in somewhat of a single-file line until we were through the doors, and when push came to shove (literally), I just wasn’t prepared. All of my pre-game prep was done with a real lack of urgency. Remember? I was experiencing the LP party over and over again. That party was chill. I knew we would all be headed for the same things, but I pictured accidental elbows, disappointed eye rolling, intense bartering, shaking on it, making new friends, sharing flasks and making plans for celebratory drinks later, as we went through our sacks, half sharing, half bragging about our affordable Lilly Pulitzer purchases. I severely underestimated the competition. These ladies and their soldiers would show no mercy.
Have you ever seen a mound of ants scattering? They look kind of crazy, going really fast in all different directions, crawling over each other as if they can’t see one another. If you can picture that, then you can picture this shopping experience. My number 1 priority was the navy blue and hot pink “Upstream” swimsuit. For whatever reason, I wanted that swimsuit the most out of everything. Even though I was 25th in line, I was, at best, 60th to the racks. This is when it became an out of body experience. Everything that happened after this was like I was hovering above watching these ladies fight over Lilly Pulitzer for Target. A miracle happened when I walked straight to the the aforementioned swimsuit and squeezed under the ladies stalking the kill above to grab two sizes, just in case. Next, I grabbed the white eyelet shorts, and the Nosie Posey clutch I never even considered putting on my list only because it was right in front of my face. I had just grabbed it as the crowd was literally throwing me this way and that, and I was bracing myself for a fall. This is when one of the ladies started screaming, “Oh my God, where are my children, I’ve lost my children,” and I know one of them was really little because she was carrying the child on her hip in line. I can’t believe she put that child down in a post-apocalyptic-run-for-your-lives mob. Can’t believe it. I do think she found them, but the crowd moved me away from them before I saw the outcome, which brought me to standing in front of the women’s eyelet tunic in navy, which I leisurely reached up to grab, and it’s seriously like I’m in slow motion, when a giant go-go-gadget arm comes from nowhere and snatches the tunic. I’ve never seen such mechanics in a wrist, the way and the speed in which this person flicked this hanger up was impressive. It came from the other side of the display. I never saw her face. There is no way that person knew what she was grabbing or what size it was. And that’s when I knew it was time to move on. In an 11th hour play, I grabbed the last pair of flip flops, and they were my size. It was epic. It was 8:01.
The items I walked away with:
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