Baby Got Target

So, I'm in our Target (actually, the Target that is second-to-closest to me, as it's a bit nicer) on Friday shopping for various items, when I took a short cut through the CDs to get to the new DVD releases. In this Target, we have one of those cool little listening stations where you can preview CDs. The listening station in this Target is sequestered away from the beaten path, but is visible if you take the shortcut that I, in fact, did take.

A movement, nay, a set of movements caught my eye as I wheeled the cart and cooed at the B, who was riding in my front carrier and grinning at me. I looked over, and there was a guy just grooving out. I took a moment and lent my musician's ear to the task, and discovered that he was listening to...

Baby Got Back.

No, really. Baby Got Back. I swear, I told you all that the midwest is about twenty years behind the coasts. This proves it. I'm not cool, and even I know that Baby Got Back isn't cool, and dancing to it in the middle of a Target is the epitome of not cooledness.

What's worse, is that he didn't look cool, like Sir Mix A Lot does:


He looked more like this:


Hard. Core. G to the E to the E to the K.