I am prefacing this post with two facts, I love Target and I'm a big fan of Oscar Mayer (a fact which may be purely based on my love for their jingles and the existence of the wiener mobile)
I'm running through Target this morning in a quest for Tassimo espresso pods. I'm in a hurry, Dan is waiting for me to get home to two children with four pink eye outbreaks between them so that he can leave for work. As I run by the coolers, I remember that Olivia is newly in love with bologna. I'm not going to pretend to understand or endorse her new love, it is what it is, and of my three children, Olivia is post in need of protein. So, as I approach the bologna, I reach up to the top shelf and grab the only size available, the one pound package. The one pound package looks exactly how you're picturing it. Oscar Mayer is not of a Pepsi mind; they don't change their logo, they don't change their packaging, the bologna looks exactly like it did when we were little. Probably the same as when our parents were kids. Except that 40 years ago they didn't sell bologna in ONE POUND packages and it wasn't in a spring-loaded bologna package holder.
I grab the package as I'm walking, my head is slightly turned away from the bologna as I have just remembered that I wanted to grab eggs as well and I see them up ahead. I grab the bologna and suddenly all hell breaks loose. I am hit in the face with more force than a good soap opera slap and less force than something you might see on UFC. My glasses are knocked askew, I've closed my eyes as I don't know what's happening. My body starts to fold in on itself; the brain reacts to protect you even when it can't figure out what's actually happening. WHACK, hit in the face, WHACK something slams into my chest. Target is doing some sort of major restock and I'm not kidding when I say at least 10 Target employees are standing in the aisle all around me. I hear someone yell "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD". I think, "this is it, the end and I'm too afraid to open my eyes and see what's taking me out." The attack stops as suddenly as it began. I straighten my body and slowly inch open my eyes hoping that they still work, checking for bruises and blood. I'm okay. A Target lady is there, checking me too. She's apologizing and I'm wondering why she's apologizing, had she attacked me? What had I done to deserve such a vicious onslaught? But, no, she didn't attack me. The SPRING LOADED BOLOGNA ATTACKED ME. Seriously, the spring loaded bologna was over-filled by some well intended, zealous Target employee and when I grabbed mine the one behind it started to come up and well....I was shot point blank by two one pound packages of bologna exploded directly from a bologna rocket launcher.
If you know me, you know this would only happen to me or someone related to me. I have nothing else to add except this; I would embarrass myself if I told you how long I searched the internet for a picture of the offending rocket launcher. I'll have to snap one next time I'm there!