
THE GUY WITH THE BABY DOLL AT TARGET WASN’T WHO I THOUGHT HE WAS
I saw him in the cereal aisle—built like a linebacker, beard down to his chest, tattoos that looked like prison ink. He was cradling a baby doll. I mean, full-on holding it like it was real, adjusting its little pink hoodie and everything. Honestly? I thought he might’ve been off. People were staring. Some giggling,…