The other day I was strolling through Target inhaling the magical pixie dust that they add to the air that turns a three item shopping trip into the appearance of having won the lottery. What I mean by this is that I go into Target expecting to spend about $14 and leave having spent at least 10 times that.
Target is the one place I don’t mind shopping with my kids though. Because I’m mean and take delight in crushing their spirits – at least so they tell me.
“Can I get this?”
“How about this?”
“One of these?”
I get in the habit of saying no and this slightly counteracts the magical-spend-more-money-gas Target adds to their air system.
One day I went into Target and saw these cool anchor shaped hooks made of cast iron. Cast iron hooks! I had to have them. I even paid full price (someone once called me bohemian – it’s a polite word for cheap). I brought them home and proudly showed them to my husband.
“Where are you going to hang those?”
“I’m not, you are.”
“I don’t know but aren’t they cool? They are made of cast iron.”
They are still in the package sitting on the shelf in the closet. Hey, at least I know where they are.
So, back to my story. I was in Target armed with a list of three things. All of them in the food section. But it’s Target. So, of course, I found myself in the book section. And I figured I’d treat myself to a book. Because I deserve it. And. IT’S TARGET, a place where I cannot be held responsible for my actions. I spotted a book I’d been considering getting for a week or so now. And, again —- TARGET. I had all but convinced myself that I needed this book. Deserved it. I’ve been good. I haven’t hurt anyone (intentionally) or committed any crimes (that I know of). I earned this book.
And then I spotted it.
It would be criminal NOT to buy this book.
It’s a bargain at twice the price!
I calculated in my mind how much 30% of $18 was and popped that shiny new book into my cart. Damn, I was going to make money on this deal. In hindsight, my math may have been off, but, well…you know. Target.
90 minutes and a full shopping cart later I headed to the checkout. Minus one of the 3 things I came in for. I don’t know exactly how the Target Kool-Aid works, but it’s effective. It always makes sure I forget something. That way I have to come back and repeat the process all over again. Sometimes the very next day.
The checker (Ringer-upper? Cashier?)…anyway, he scans my book and I notice $18.00 on his screen.
Wait a minute, that book was supposed to be free.
“I thought that book was 30% off, it rang up full price.”
“No, the price on the shelf is 30% off.”
I’m not sure how much time actually passed as I stared at him trying to sort through the chaos in my brain. I think it was kind of like one of those body snatcher moments where the me who had not inhaled the Target “air” was fighting for control of my body.
I had done the math. Justified my purchase. I drank the Kool-Aid and it was GOOD.
I trusted you Target. I was saving money and now I’m not. And I’m cheap. Very cheap. And maybe I have hurt people and committed crimes, I just can’t remember right now. I am not sure I deserve this book.
After a rather loud throat clearing from the woman behind me, I swiped my Target card. The sting of the deception buffered only a tiny bit by the fact that I saved 5% by using that card. Take that you…you….TARGET.
So not only does Target drug you (allegedly…I have no actual proof) into spending money, they trick you into thinking you are saving more money than you really are.
Maybe I should invest in Target stock.
Hello my name is Kim and I’m a Targetoholic. I mean c’mon, there is a Starbucks in there!
For the record it’s rather ironic that the book in question, Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson, inspired this humorous post. At least I think it’s humorous. But maybe, maybe I’m just not that funny. That’s ok though, I laughed. In fact, I’m still laughing. Because the book is actually cheaper on Amazon.
Damn you, Target.