I Love You Target, But We Need To Talk….

“To be honest, I’m just winging it.  Life, motherhood, my eyeliner.  Everything.” ~Unknown

Along with just about every other suburban mom, I worship regularly at the church of Target.  But over the years, I’ve perfected the art of going in for one thing and coming out with less than five, so I like to believe this makes me unique among the tribe.  Like, some kind of savant.

Anyway, my Target recently went through a small renovation to make way for Joanna Gaines and the implementation of self-checkout.

Personally, I hate self-checkout.  If I have to go into the store, do all the shopping and then do all the work of scanning and bagging my purchases, I feel like I should be rewarded with a discount for having saved the business the cost of an hourly associate.

But today, I needed to make an expedited Target run for three specific things.  For me, an expedited run means that I quickly grab the things I need and then swing by Bullseye’s Playground.  Because c’mon….I don’t have that much self-control.

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The section had been largely picked through and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find anything to add to my basket, so I headed toward the check-out, feeling a little disappointed, but then deciding that my cost savings justified a stop at Starbucks on the way out the door.  YES!

My Target has something like 127 check-out lanes, but rarely do they open more than two.  Most of the time, I don’t care, because  there is ample reading material and a wide snack and beverage selection to keep me occupied while I wait.

But today, I just didn’t have the time.  I decided I would have to proceed with self-checkout.  I approached the register and began following the instructions on the screen. Then, my eyes shifted upward and I caught sight of something so horrifying, I almost dropped dead.

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It took me a second to realize that what I was seeing, was MYSELF; reflected back at me through the over-sized security monitor Target found necessary to perch above each register in self-checkout.

I get it Target, it’s a crime prevention thing.  I know that when I pull into the parking lot at this particular Target and spot a KIA parked among the Volvo’s, luxury SUV’s and mini-vans, I hold my purse a little tighter and sometimes jog into the store.

And I read the police blotter for this area.  I know what kind of community we live in.  All those damned by-law violators and that kid who keeps having pizza’s delivered to his neighbor as a prank….total degenerates.

So, I get it.  I really do.

However, why is it necessary for me to have to see myself, on a screen the size of a small TV, and without some kind of selfie filter to soften the blow?

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Do you not know your target audience, Target?  What mom wants to see the enormous bags under her eyes, in HD?

And I swear, my hair looked far less greasy when I left the house this morning, than it looked on your shiny screen, so do you think you could tone down the brightness a tad?

Also, according to my mirror at home, I look a lot slimmer in the “I Love Twinkies” t-shirt I’m wearing today.  Which, by the way, I purchased at your store back in 2005 if that gives you any indication as to how deeply my loyalties lie….so, please, consider adjusting the camera to a more flattering angle.

Thanks to your cruelty, I felt like I had to return the Cadbury Cream Egg I planned to eat for lunch.  Now I’ll just go hungry and you lost a sale.  And good-luck finding that egg, because I most definitely didn’t put it back where I found it.

Lastly, do you know what always makes a person look better?  A black and white image.  I don’t think you need to be able to see the exact shade of my freckles (fine….age spots) in so much vibrant color.

Honestly, Target, I’m not happy.  But, we both know I can’t quit you.

I’ll be back….probably later today, because I saw you were switching out the seasonal items in Bullseye’s Playground, but this is officially your first strike.

5,999,999,999 more and I’ll start shopping Walmart.

You’ve been warned.

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