A little bit of North Dakota...in West Africa

The weirdest thing just happened. But before I can tell you that story, I need to tell you this one:

There’s a Target in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Actually, it’s a Super Target. It’s huge. It’s about 1,000,000,000 sq. ft. (I’m estimating). It takes up about 1/3 of the city of Grand Forks.

Okay those last two things aren’t entirely factually accurate, but the rest of this will be.

If you need anything in Grand Forks, that’s your place to go. Whether it’s a new garden hose, the latest DVD release, a tennis racket, anything, you’ll find it there. There’s even a Starbucks for us West Coasters to go get a coffee should we get homesick (or a Frappuccino. I hate how girly that looks. But their delicious. And I don’ t drink coffee. What the hell else am I supposed to do?)(I also hate that spell check recognizes Frappuccino and believes it needs to be capitalized because it’s a Starbucks Frappuccino. I bet cappuccino isn’t capitalized! Hey I was right!)

Bringing it back. Almost every time I go to Target I run into somebody I know, and I don’t know that many people in Grand Forks. But it’s uncanny how often I run into friends, family and family friends.

There’s another thing that happens EVERY time I go to Target with my family. I lose my Grandma and little sister. We always agree on a meeting place and time, but I always finish early and for some reason have this misplaced confidence that tells me “David, you can do it. I bet they’re in produce.” They’re never in produce.

Thank God for cell phones or I’m not sure what we’d do. I’m convinced that before cell phones, people wandered around Super Target for days looking for lost loved ones. Trips to the grocery store probably took almost a week to complete. Although, if you’re going to be lost somewhere for a week, Super Target is the place to be stuck. They have everything you need to survive and then some (see above).

Every time I go back to North Dakota I go to Super Target. It’s part of my vacation checklist, one of those things you just have to do. As soon as I get to North Dakota after I leave Freetown, the Super Target will probably be one of the first places I visit. It’s that awesome.

So why did I just spend 379 words (don’t worry, it’s right; I checked!) talking about a Super Target in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Because you had to understand how much that Super Target means to me, in order to realize how much the following event meant to me.

I got home from work and took my polo off to change into a much more comfortable (and fashionable) Ken Griffey Jr. Mariners shirt (that’s right, I’m still representing in West Africa! Let’s go M’s! Get your heads out of your collective butts!). As I took it off, a weird smell entered my nose. It wasn’t bad or unpleasant, in fact, it was the opposite.

It smelt like the Super Target in Grand Forks, North Dakota.

I don’t know how to explain what it smells like, but that’s why my polo smells like. I suppose it just smells like any other Target, but my mind instantly went to Grand Forks. Stores here don’t smell like that. They smell different. Not bad. Just different. (Some smell like really, really old fish. They smell bad.)

I haven’t been to that Super Target in over a year, and I don’t think this particular polo has ever been to that store. But now I have a dilemma on my hands. I love smelling my polo, and don’t want to wear it and have it lose its bulls-eye related scent.

(Please don’t worry. It’s not lost on me how blessed I am that this is my biggest problem of the day.)

I currently have my shirt sealed in a humidity-free, vacuum-sealed plastic bag. I think it’s going to stay there until I decide that I need to wear the polo again because I’m sick of the other four shirts I brought for work.

Or until I buy another polo, allowing me to keep mine in the bag and preserve the aroma of Super Target (which would be the worst cologne ever). I know it sounds stupid, but I like that I can go to North Dakota whenever I want to, just by smelling a polo.

These are the things I spend a good part of my day thinking about. I think I’m starting to lose my mind. Look for the next blog post when a dirty sock reminds me of New York City!