So in my last post I mentioned that I spend a fair amount of time at Target. However, I wasn’t being totally honest…

I’m there 24/7.

Why? Because I love Target. I looveee it. Off the top of my head, I could name you eight different Target locations within both Orange County and the greater Los Angeles area that not only have I visited, but also have on occasion cross-checked with each other just to see what differs from store to store. So far, the one in Glendale has the rest beat by a mile – three whole floors! When I found this out I had what some people would call an out-of-body experience. Hands down, Target is the Best Store In The World. Where else could you buy toilet paper, birthday cards, a new vacuum cleaner, M&Ms and three (or four) new blouses all in the same place? And for a very reasonable price I might add.

Now for any of you out there snickering at me with your highfalutin, “I’m better than Target” attitude, lemme tell you something – you’re all a bunch of posers! The main reason why I even decided to write this post is because over the last month or so, I suddenly realized that pretty much every friend I have is also a Target devotee. We gush about the cute dresses. We marvel at the plethora of holiday décor. We squeal over the ample selection of affordable wines. Yes, Virginia, there is wine at Target. Thus my decision to take this somewhat embarrassing love into the light that no one may ever again do the walk of shame out of that store as they push an overflowing cartful of those easily recognizable bullseye bags.

The second reason for this post is because I saw a rare sight the other day in Target – a group of tourists. I don’t want to use tired stereotypes in describing this lot, but they all had either a fanny pack or passport purse on their body and cameras in hand. I kid you not. There was no mistaking these foreigners.

At first, the jaded city dweller in me thought, “Seriously? A tour of Target? Dude, these poor people got ripped off.” But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that introducing those around the world to the beauty and wonder of Target was totally dead-on. Whether you like it or not, the store is completely representative of America as a whole. The clothing section has the latest fashion styles streamlined for the masses. The media section has both the most popular books and movies on sale for your reading and/or viewing pleasure. And the food section says it all – you have your choice of either prepackaged processed foods ready to eat or prepackaged frozen foods ready to warm up. No fresh fruits or veggies anywhere to be seen. Is that not the average American’s diet or what? (To be fair, though, I just noticed last week that a Target in the OC recently opened a produce section. Just furthers my belief that Target will one day be the salvation of us all.) By the time I left the store, I was wishing I could be one of those lucky tourists. I bet they got some kind of goodie bag. Bastards.

Like any great love, though, it’s not perfect. You know how when you have a huge crush on someone from afar and every little thing they do is just so adorable and cute? Yet when you finally start dating, you realize they have a bad case of dandruff and a really annoying way of trying to give you a back rub when you don’t need a back rub and in fact it actually kind of hurts and could you please not dig your fingers into my spinal cord? Well, anyway… That’s my relationship with Target. You see, once upon a time, in a land far, far away – the western suburbs of Chicago – I used to work at Target. One summer I was a cashier; that was pretty cool. Yet when I returned during my holiday break, they claimed all the cashier positions were filled and that I would have to work the dreaded food court. That lasted all of about three days. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say it involved a bird beaten to death with a broom in the storage area and one very freaked out Anna. Needless to say, I quit on the spot.

Alas, my fairytale romance with Target is a bit tarnished, but time really does heal all wounds. Now when I walk in and look at all the wonderful things that are about to dazzle me for the next several minutes… or hours… I simply smile, grab a cart and happily make my way down the aisle with a little extra pep in my step. Once again, all is right with the world.

DISCLAIMER: I swear I’m not getting paid a dime for the above adoration. Cross my heart and hope to die… in Target. Just hopefully not with a broom in the storage area.

Image: jscreationzs / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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3 Responses to “And On Your Right…”

I have to agree with you…Target is the Best Store In The World! 🙂

December 1st, 2009

Target is the the best. Matter of fact I’m wearing a sweater from their store today.

Jose Blanco
December 2nd, 2009

I would like to see the dead bird incident reenacted in a cardboard box.
I guffawed out loud several times and must admit I too have experienced all that you wrote about including the tourists at target.

December 2nd, 2009