Saturday, August 19, 2006

Targetted in Target by TiVo

The surreal is sometimes the real, really. Never wear a red shirt in Target. While in a Target in Sun City West, Arizona (looking for a waste basket; don't worry, it gets better), I was drawn to the television wall, my TV-B-Gone at the ready. I zapped about four at once, moved down the row, and darkened a few others.

While aiming for one more shot, a woman asked me, "Do you have TiVo?" (This is a device that records TV shows digitally and plays them back when you want. You never have to miss a nanosecond of the idiocy.) I looked down at my aimed TV-B-Gone (as did she for a moment, I think) and wondered if she was referring to that subversive device. I said, "TiVo?" She said, "I'm looking for TiVO." Well, well. Then I brilliantly said, "Sorry I don't work here. I have no idea." She replied, "It was the red shirt. Sorry."

It was the red shirt. There must be verse in Ecclesiates that frames all this wisely, but I cannot think of what it might be. No, it's the whole book.

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