So this past weekend, my husband and I went on a date. Like, dinner and a movie and some quality time together. It was super. The only weird part is that the movie theater is in the mall, but it’s not one of the mall anchors. It’s, like, smack dab in the center of the mall. So you have to walk through the mall to get to your movie.
In our case, we parked by the Wal-Mart and walked in to the mall.
Also, does anyone else think it’s weird that the mall has a Wal-Mart?
Anyway, as we were walking back past the Wal-Mart after the movie let out, my husband made a comment that he and his brother, Frick, went to a two-story Wal-Mart when they were running errands recently. Now Frick had never been to a two-story Wal-Mart, and to hear my husband tell it, was utterly fascinated.
Which reminded me of my own introduction to my first two-story Target.
“I remember when I first moved to Los Angeles,” I confided to my husband. “There was a two-story Target and I was completely intimidated by the shopping cart escalator. I never did figure out how to use it, so I always had to shop on the second story first. I could only buy as much as I could carry down the escalator.”
“You really shouldn’t tell me these things,” my husband replied.
“Why?”
“You know I’m just going to use these little facts to make fun of you later.”
“But you’re my husband and you love me and doesn’t that mean I can tell you things in confidence that you won’t use against me later and tease me in front of all our friends?”
“Not really, no.”
