Dear Columbia Heights Target,
I stood in your snack bar line for 10 minutes on Saturday so I could buy a drink and a pretzel. Everytime I stand in your line you never have what I want to order by the time I get to the register. This time, however, you had a case full of soft pretzels, so I thought I was safe.
HOWEVER, when I finally made it to the register, I was told you didn't have any. "What about those?" I politely asked, pointing to the large, glass holding cell full of deliciously twisted goodness, all the while suppressing my rage and desire to throttle everyone in my path. "Those aren't for sale," was the mind-boggling reply.
Not for sale? A dozen perfectly-fine looking food items on display for all to see, and they aren't for sale? Please, please explain the "logic" of this to me. Or, if that's too much to ask, please consider putting up a sign -- it can be handwritten in eyeliner for all I care -- that says:
Even though these tasty morsels appear to be edible -- looking at you girl who forgot to eat before she left home and is now feeling faint -- they are not in fact for sale.
A little too wordy for you? How about:
Don't eat me
Haha not for you
NOT FOR SALE!!!
Anything will do, really, just to prevent me and other people from getting their hopes up and wasting their time.
I love you, Target, I do. And even though people keep getting shot outside of this particular one, I love the location and convenience. But stand between a girl and her pretzel, and it's on.
Hungry in DC