I am overcome with a longing for the smell of a Target.
I want to wander the aisles, like long cool sips of frappuccinos. I want to do the Target handwave—a come-hither of sorts with my husband—drawing him over to the next aisle. I am a siren, luring him to the on-sale home goods. But this candle is only $3.48!
It’s ridiculous to want all this, all right now. There are far worse fates than not getting to fondle shiny gold busts of jackalopes, or to run my fingers across the textures of a twelve-dollar handbag. But if I said I longed for something more profound, I don’t know if I’d trust myself.
Of course Target technically isn’t missing, but now, instead of a leisure, it’s a responsibility. One that I’d rather not take on right now. No one needs me clogging aisles with my “oohs” and “ahhs”. And for what? I’m the economy’s worst nightmare: a looky-loo.
When I was younger, I never left empty-handed. My $5.85 an hour job afforded me a great many clearance-rack luxuries: my first string bikini, my first pushup bra, my first thong. It was capitalism wearing the mask of freedom, and I loved it nonetheless.
Over the years, the store became for me a tangible touchpoint with mainstream trends, without me having to forget my Pinterest password. AGAIN.
Now, I’ve only slowly purchased the “no duh” essentials: a coffee mug with a cartoon rabbit on it that looks like my beloved, departed Bonnie. A set of blue stacking mixing bowls I use every day. A shower curtain that made my stark bathroom feel like a lush jungle. A black shirt, since I did not own one, so I could perform with my sketch comedy group. A wallet and some sunglasses, so I could show up on a business trip without my brewery promo shades and rubber-banded credit cards. I end up with a pumpkin spice candle and an unplanned eyebrow pencil every once in a while, but it’s more about the place than the purchases.
I just miss breathing deep and embracing the presence of it all.
And the escape.
Next Steps: Drink a glass of water, look for somewhere local to order a knife sharpener from, and consider it deeply.
I miss being idle at Target