What I did on my weekend vacation Part 3...

Sunday came and with it the last chance I would have to get a Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. We'd already tried the shopping thing, but that wasn't specific enough. I needed a reason to get into Target that seemed pressing, yet realistic. My mother can only be "tricked" when confronted with an item in the store. Theoretical wishing for something will get you a response like "Well, your birthday is coming up." Why does she consider that a reasonable phrase to use all-year round? My birthday is most certainly not coming up in August, since I was born in April. Still it's a foolproof excuse to my mother.

As if by fate, the urgent need to go to Target came. I broke my shoelace! I've never been happier to have done something so stupid. Getting new shoelaces is always nice, if inconvenient. You look at your dirty old shoes in a new way. Like when your Grandma gets a new haircut. She's not getting any younger, but the change is nice. Being at home for only a weekend I had the one pair of sneakers, so I had to tie my shoes together with a safety pin. I may have looked like a fool, but it was a small price to pay.

Finally at Target, I perused their shoelaces (can't jump right into the appliance section too quickly, lest she discover what I'm up to). A very small variety of a very few ugly laces. They seemed to only carry various colors of the same hiking boot shoelace. Not surprising considering the type of shoes they sell there. Target it where Nike's circa '92 go to die.

Swinging by the kitchen section, I furiously looked for the Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. "What are you looking for?" Mom asked. "I'll know it when I see it," I replied. But it didn't see it. I heard it. Some kid was playing with a box and the box was talking. It sounded very similar to the drawn-out dulcet tones of a Mr. Moviefone voice. "The Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology uses a unique brush action to effortlessly clean floors, stairs, and even those hard-to-reach places." It was like music to my ears.

The Shark manufacturers turned the box for their product into an infomercial. It had a hologram displaying the unique brush action with directional arrows and everything and it spoke when you pressed the button. I ripped it from the child's grasp to admire it further. How could someone not buy it? It's so neat and it's only $60.00. "Maybe it costs that much because they put it in such a fancy box," Mom grumbled. "But Mom," I pleaded, "I need my wall's hugged, and since these Shark people have the patent, my hands are tied." She was an easy sell. Perhaps my secretive plan was more obvious this weekend then I thought. "Okay, put it in the cart." Success!

In the car I was admiring the photographs of the Shark's abilities. "It can suck up large nuts and bolts. Just think of all the home projects I can tackle now without fear of making a mess. And look how it easily picks up all of that sand. I can go to the beach much more often now. Wow, my quality of life is going to improve exponentially." By the time we made it back to my parent's, my mother expected me to take it out of the box to use on her floors. I refused. I didn't want to waste the sure-to-be magical inaugural cleaning on somebody else's floor. Even if that somebody was the Shark's benefactress.

I made it home and immediately assembled the Shark. So easy and intuitive. And it came out of the box fully charged. I spent 10 minutes sweeping every floor in the apartment (it's a very small apartment!). It was as effortless as promised, but I feared that it might not work well on our terribly uneven floors. When opened the compartment to dump any dirt I picked up, I was shocked an appalled by the amount of garbage and filth that my floors were covered in. Thank god the Shark came into our lives to save us from the hidden crumbs and dust bunnies that have plagued us without our knowledge. It's the greatest device I ever bought, and it didn't cost me a penny. Now I know how Jane Jetson must feel!

What I did on my weekend vacation Part 2...

My mother and I have always played this little game. We go shopping together. I pick out some clothes or an appliance or something stupid and use my best infomercial reasoning of why one would need such a thing. She plays the part of the doubting consumer. As an example, here is a little play:

ME: Look at this corkscrew! Isn't this the greatest corkscrew you've ever seen? Read the box! You screw it into a cork and it pulls the cork out for you. You'll never have to use a dangerous knife when opening wine again!

MOMMY: Displaying a suspiscious don't-even-ask-me-to-buy-that-for-you look on her face: Looks like any other corkscrew to me. I hope you have enough money to pay for it yourself.

ME: Placing the item in our shopping cart: I just might buy it for myself then.

They arrive at the register.

ME: $50 does seem like a lot of money for a corkscrew. You're right I can't really afford it. Even though I really need one. Exagerates a sad sigh face, which can hardly be contained behind a smile.

Both know what's going on and both know how this is going to end.

ME: Speaking absurdly to rouse fake guilt: I cut myself 3 times trying to get into a bottle of Pinot Grigio last week.

Mommy half-smiles and places corkscrew on the checkout counter. She secretly loves it.

This was the same game I intended to play in order to earn my Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. It's not hard to get my mom to dance this dance.

Rule #1: Get her in the shopping mood. Spend an afternoon of shopping with her before the purchase, which I would probably do anyway.

Rule #2: Play your hand close to your chest. I don't want to reveal my ultimate plan too soon. The key is to drop small hints into coversation throughout the day. "Yeah, the floors in my apartment are so difficult to clean," and "So I saw Raelyn last night. Ya know what she did at her surprise party, that crazy girl! It was so funny..." Sounds easy, but it takes a lifetime of practice to make sure it doesn't seem forced.

Rule #3: Make it convenient stop. We went to Barnes and Noble Booksellers to pick up a few books, to the mall to return a watch and browse, and headed home. No Target in the vacinity. I would have to draw her to it. I suggested a movie at the theater right next to the local Target.

My Dad came with us to see Hide and Seek starring creepy little Dakota Fanning and creepy old Robert DeNiro. For anyone out there who doesn't know who Charlie is, it really isn't worth finding out. The reveal is so boring and cheats so much, one can only be disappointed. Why didn't Dakota Fanning just tell her father who it was? If I ever have a daughter as creepy and secretive as this girl, she better look out. When supernatural-seeming things happen around children, you have to just smack them around a little and be done with it. Think of all the suffereing and havoc that could have been avoided if the adults in such movies as Poltergeist or The Exorcist would have just given those little girls a good crack in the mouth and told them "Just knock this crap off."

I tried my best to learn my lesson from The Wedding Date fiasco and sat far enough away from everyone else as possible. This plan does not prevent other people of terrible hygene from sitting next to you. A family of 5 sat in the seats next to me, and I didn't have the heart to tell the heavyset grandfather that I was saving the seat for someone, though all my senses were telling me to lie. He sat down and immediately started complaining to his daughter and her 5 year-old son (who brings an impressionable 5 year-old to see a bloody thriller, especially one starring a ill-behaved Dakota Fanning?) that the oversized seats in which we sat were too small and uncomfortable.

It was not my weekend for breathing in movie theaters because as soon as he settled down the scent of my large wheezing neighbor's leather ball-cap began to mingle with his considerable B.O. and drift my way. To top it off he whipped out a hotdog. "With all the fixin's," he remarked to his wife. Have you ever smelled the combination of the leather, the non-kosher hotdog, fixin's, and man-sweat? My parents chuckled at me the whole movie. Perhaps Mommy would feel sympathy for my plight and bestow upon me a Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. With my father driving home, there was no way we were stopping at Target tonight. I would have to wait till morning.

What I did on my weekend vacation Part 1...

This past weekend I went home to New Jersey to visit my family. Secretly, the reason I crossed the river was to go to Target with my mother to purchase a Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. I was first introduced to this amazing device during a friend's surprise party. Shouting "Surprise!" was followed by a confetti explosion. A few minutes later, with a glass of champagne in hand, the birthday girl brought out the Shark and sucked up the confetti one-handed! To me it was the highlight of the party and I have been dreaming of a Shark ever since. So began my New Jersey adventure.

Before going to my parents house, I first met up with my best friends Steve and Raelyn who live in Jersey City for Indian food and a cheesy movie, though in hindsight we might have been better served going for cheesy food and an Indian movie. We walked along Jersey City's "Little India" street to find a decent Indian restaurant. Apparently Mr. Patel owns the entire block (Patel-Mart, Patel Video, etc.). We settled on one place solely because of the waterfall in the window. Hell, with a budget big enough to afford a waterfall, they must be doing something right. It would seem others felt the same way. The place was filled with young, white kids (some of which we even knew) seduced by the spectacle of rushing water past a window. Kudos to their Marketing Director, Mr. Patel. We made the mistake of mentioning that we were in a rush. This seemed to offend someone, because we had to ask for our food 3 times. What food I was able to stop and savor was delicious, but have you ever tried to eat an order of Chicken Vindaloo in less than 10 minutes? It is not recommended. With our movie starting soon, we asked for the check. Four times. I've never seen anyone concentrate on adding up a $40 check longer than our waiter, Mr. Patel.

In the car, we raced toward the movie theater to see The Wedding Date. Debra Messing was getting married and we were going to be late! The very idea was too much to bear! Against all the basic properties of physics, Steve drove from Jersey City to Elizabeth in 20 minutes. We developed one of our perfect schemes of splitting up with the greatest efficiency to park/pick-up tickets/get a large vat of Diet Coke. Our detailed planning panned out and we made it just in time to see Debra sleep with some hooker and fall in love. It was Pretty Woman meets My Best Friend's Wedding meets Every Predictable Romantic Comedy. It was fun and cheesy and probably a waste of money, but I learned some valuable lessons. For one, prostitutes rarely worry about STD's and are, oh, so loveable. And for another, you should never sit in the movie theater next to two fat ladies in oversized t-shirts, stretch pants, and scrunci; chances are they are going to be eating buffalo wings with a grotesque zeal that can only charitablely be called unlady-like. Between smell of the vinegar, and the audible sucking of their saucy fingers, I spent most of the movie trying to curl up to Raelyn to get as far from these former beauty queens as possible.

Afterwards, we discussed the many benefits of the movie. High on the list was Dermot Mulroney's ass and Debra's hair. Maybe that was just my list, but I could watch those two things do anything for two hours. I was dropped off to my parents' house in Kearny. My parents and my brother, Sean, went to bed within minutes of my arrival; I stayed up with Seanie's girlfriend, Fanny. You all know her. We watched crappy late night TV and I told her all about my Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. It was only Friday night, but I was determined to get it. And get my Mom to pay for it.