I just got home from Target.
I don’t know why I go there. It feels less like a shopping trip and more like I have gone on a bender.
I can not control myself in that store. I just go down aisle after aisle and throw more stuff into my big red cart. I leave that store with a receipt a mile long and a conscience racked with the guilts.
I spent HOW much?
Honestly, I think they created that store just for people like me. Us crazy folk who can not control their buying impulses for their life. Bright lights, happy people, lots to buy. I think that is the marketing behind the red bullseye — it hypnotizes those weak people like me, draws them in and then, BAM! You have become another willing target for them to suck you into buying a boat load of crap.
Every step I take, something beckons me.
I am a really cute ruffle-y sweater and would look fabulous on you! Buy me! Throw me in your cart! Add another color too for it would look stunning! Add a tee-shirt! Throw in some socks, and that cute glittery belt. To Die For!
Oh and those cute sparkly ballerina flats? You MUST buy them for your daughter. She would adore you for life! She’d be the talk of preschool, she would!
Up n Up Hand soap, just $1.79, I am a steal! Throw me in!! I need friends, come on! Another fragrance, too!
That cute mini rake and shovel set would get your son helping in the garden! Try it! I am only $19.99!
I am not really hearing these voices. That would be weird.
But something is making me throw unneeded crap into my cart. Convenience? Excessive consumerism? Idiocracy?
It’s just that Target has everything. And it’s right smack dab in front of me. And well the cart is so big and fits all the stuff I am throwing in. If not today, someday I might need this. So in it goes. I am not a hoarder, really. American Pickers would not find anything worth it in my basement, unless there is a market for the sturdy white and red bullseye shopping bags.
Even if I had a list, though, I would still not be able to stick to it.
I have tried only going there for the pantry and laundry items.
So in addition to an 18-pack of paper towels, diaper wipes, a 9-pack super sized toilet paper, kitchen storage bags, a 40-lb bag of dog food, toothpaste, deodorant and shampoo, I would leave Target with a new shower curtain and bath rug I don’t need, new lunch coolers I don’t need, 10 little 99 cent scrapbook embellishments I don’t need (and new paper too), a pack of pencils that were $1.00, a new tennis top, flip-flops, a pair of shoes for each kid, this really cute dress for my daughter, a new pair of jeans for my son and a box of Archer Farms Trail Mix.
I would then try to maneuver a now very heavy cart through the store to the checkout. I know I don’t need half of this stuff today, I tell myself, but it’s too hard to drive that cart around the store and put it all back. So I talk myself into the fact that of course I do need this, scan my card, and have a pit in my stomach all the way home.
I say it out loud. “I am so NOT ever going back there again. So not ever.”
Except a few weeks go by and then I run out of paper towels.
My husband actually cringes when he hears me say I am going to Target. He knows I can’t control myself there.
Thankfully I don’t live closer to Target. It is actually a trip that takes a good solid three hours out of my day, with drive time, shop time, return home time. Guilt time.
Well, perhaps if I look at the bright side, I can see it clearly.
If nothing else, my guilt-ridden, consumer-excessive trips to Target are my way of trying to help our faltering economy.