Not Feeling the Target Love

Nearly everyone I know loves the Land of the Big Red Dot known as Target. And ye cats and little fishes, you find nearly as many of them dotting the landscape as Starbucks. But I have to admit, I don't understand the fuss. Sure, I occasionally shop there because its convenient, being barely a mile from the house. My husband, on the other hand, loooooovvvves Target and delights in spending a couple of hours wandering through every nook and cranny of the store.

I just don't get it. Maybe its because the Target nearest us just plain bites. Truly, it does. Its staffed by what has to be the culls from every other Target. The Minor Leagues of Target, right here. I have yet to experience anyone on the sale floor who is not engaged in earnest (and often hand-wavingly energetic) conversation with a coworker about their social activities in the last week and who dissed who, to the exclusion of absolutely everything else, including I don't know... their actual jobs? They see absolutely nothing wrong with blocking entire aisles (and those are fairly wide aisles) with multiple carts piled high with cardboard and other retail detritus and then walking away, abandoning their crap to become some sort of consumer obstacle course. We needn't discuss the general attitude should I, a lowly shopper, need to intrude upon their space for any reason. Dude. I have news for you. This is a Target, NOT Tavern on the Green. Get the hell over yourself, all I need is some help reaching that item on the top shelf so I can support the economy just a little bit, mmmkay?

It frustrates the hell out of me. Plus, our Target seems to be poorly stocked, often failing to carry the same items that the Target across town does. Even the presence of Starbucks there doesn't sweeten my sullen view of The Target That Sucks because its staffed by the same Targetistas. (Besides, Starbucks might be padding their bottom line but the caramel macchiato goodness also pads MY bottom line. If you know what I mean.)

The best answer, of course, is to simply not give them my money. Alas, I have my moments when convenience overtakes my sense of consumer justice and I find myself doing the walk of shame through the red doors (which, by the way Target, you really ought to fix those. Its really aggravating to have them get stuck as they're trying to open. Don't make me kick you.) I justify myself by murmuring that really, with the price of gas these days, I'm really saving money by not driving across town, really truly. And some part of me knows that really? I'm just freaking lazy.

I feel cheated. I read all these stories of True Target Love and the fabulousness of the big red dot but... i got nothin, man.