Whoever created the Target business concept is a genius whose birthday should be celebrated as a national holiday by every collegiate business school in America. I don’t know of any other place that can get women to walk out of its store with $1,234.17 worth of shit they don’t need, just for them to realize once they have gotten into their car, that they in fact forgot to buy anything that was on their actual shopping list.
This type of creative ingenious would have gotten one labeled a ‘witch’ during the times of the Salem Witch Trials, and probably hung.
I’m driving in my car on my way to my local Target. I recite to myself multiple times the sole item on my shopping list “I’m only going to buy a storage bin.” It’s like just saying this statement has karmatic energy that has alerted the target gods that I am on my way. They are now waiting for me at the gates of Target, laughing at my optimism, where they will suck me into a shopping abyss.
I walk in and feel as if I hear angels singing from above, and the first thing I see is the dollar aisle in all its glory. I casually walk up to the aisle and calmly peruse the merchandise.
I begin sifting through what I believe to be the best deals of my lifetime….
All of sudden my body undergoes some sort of transformation where my IQ drops 50 points (at least), everything is foggy, and all that is left is a carcass that used to resemble me, and now looks like something out of the Walking Dead Series.
I continue the rest of the shopping trip in this trance-like state, with no recollection of what is going on, where I am, or what I am doing.
Next I walk by the women’s clothes and accessories. I buy a t-shirt that has a trendy saying on it, thinking maybe it will motivate me to work out.
Then I happen upon the kids clothing department. These items, through some sort of osmosis, somehow independently get up off the shelves and enter my cart. I have no recollection of even stopping in this section, yet somehow I am now pushing 2 carts.
As I see the home section, I notice I’m skipping down the aisle, like Dorothy Gail following the yellow brick road on her way to OZ.
I see throw pillows, I must have them.
I see new bed linens and decide it’s time to redecorate our bedroom.
But I can’t stop there and buy $200 worth of nick knacks that my children will inevitably break during one of their WWF matches. I think to myself maybe my children won’t be such heathens anymore.
John will complain, “these are out of budget purchases,” blah blah blah. No worries, I’ll tell him we had them all at the old house, and I just found them in a box in the basement. I’ve literally told this lie for about 50% of the newly purchased items that now decorate my current home- it’s worked every time.
I make my way to the checkout line, where I use my cartwheel app. It shows me how I have saved $500 on the $1,000 worth of merchandise I just purchased and didn’t even need. I feel superhuman. I should be given an award. John will be so proud.
I go to leave the store and I see Starbucks. OMG I totally need some coffee, I’m exhausted from all that shopping.
All of a sudden I’ve woken from the haze, it’s purely magical.
I get to my car and realize, FART IN A SKILLET, I didn’t buy the storage bin. Whatever, I’ll come back tomorrow.
I hope you love to shop at Target as much as I do. For me it truly is an addiction of total bullcrap proportions. I drive John nuts when I go there, but in the end he’s beginning to fall subject to the sorcery himself. Just the other day, he too came home from Target without the item he went for, and instead with an impulse purchase that he rationalized to himself as something he needed. And I explained, that’s how it starts… welcome to the team hunny!
~H-Bomb Ties, Ltd.