A breed of creature closely related to the Oompa Loompa's of Willy Wonka's factory must be running the operations of Target stores. Maybe little orange people with bright red shirts. I'm convinced of it- how else would I feel magical shivers tingling up and down my spine as I pursue aisle after aisle of seemingly ordinary items? It's either Ooma Loompa cousins or twinkling fairy dust. There is no other explanation.
What enchantment makes me feel like a kid in a candy store (as the saying goes) when I walk between two walls lined with office products? I don't feel awash with waves of relaxation when surrounded by produce and other food while at grocery stores, so why does being beside a banana warm me up inside at Target? It's not as if Target is a one-of-a-kind, miraculous, novel idea of a store. Au contraire, consumers can opt out and head to Walmart, Kmart, whatever prefix followed by "mart" you can imagine. Yet Walmart seems like a trashy warehouse selling crap made against all labor laws by children in third-world countries and sold for dirt cheap. Target takes the Walmart concept and totally classes it up. I mean come ON, they even sell designer clothing now (though I never see anyone buy it...).
Generally while traveling abroad, I am so awestruck and absorbing my surroundings like a dried-out sponge eager for moisture that I cannot dedicate even one moment to missing things back home. There is one exception to this, however; the desire to make a shopping trip at Target somehow invades my excitement at being in a new place. Once again, I blame the Oompa Loompa relatives and their fairy dust (probably on loan from Tinkerbell).
It cannot be as simple as the focus on the color red, can it? When I think red, the first place my mind leaps is anger, Spanish bullfights and ketchup (yeah, I need to go to therapy). It's DEFINITELY not their creepy mascot dog. I'm sorry, but whatever "genius" in the marketing department who thought up that one should be fired on the spot. Why would you not pick a cute breed like a Jack Russel? What kid growing up could resist Wishbone's charms (no one, according to him)? Hopefully I didn't just date myself too much with that reference...
It also can't possibly be their bull's eye logo- that thing just looks like a stationary Eye of Sauron. Certainly not an inviting image, yet I understand where they were going with that idea- right on Target prices, every time you shop there you get a bull's eye, yadda, yadda...
Whatever it is, I cannot get enough of my Target fix! If I go longer than two weeks without bursting through those automatic doors, I start jonseing worse than a heroin addict in rehab.
Generally while traveling abroad, I am so awestruck and absorbing my surroundings like a dried-out sponge eager for moisture that I cannot dedicate even one moment to missing things back home. There is one exception to this, however; the desire to make a shopping trip at Target somehow invades my excitement at being in a new place. Once again, I blame the Oompa Loompa relatives and their fairy dust (probably on loan from Tinkerbell).
It cannot be as simple as the focus on the color red, can it? When I think red, the first place my mind leaps is anger, Spanish bullfights and ketchup (yeah, I need to go to therapy). It's DEFINITELY not their creepy mascot dog. I'm sorry, but whatever "genius" in the marketing department who thought up that one should be fired on the spot. Why would you not pick a cute breed like a Jack Russel? What kid growing up could resist Wishbone's charms (no one, according to him)? Hopefully I didn't just date myself too much with that reference...
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| You cannot tell me that THIS is cuter than Wishbone?? |
It also can't possibly be their bull's eye logo- that thing just looks like a stationary Eye of Sauron. Certainly not an inviting image, yet I understand where they were going with that idea- right on Target prices, every time you shop there you get a bull's eye, yadda, yadda...
Whatever it is, I cannot get enough of my Target fix! If I go longer than two weeks without bursting through those automatic doors, I start jonseing worse than a heroin addict in rehab.
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