Sunday, October 2, 2011
Are We a Target?
It is probably not a secret that I am a fan of my local SuperTarget. I worked there one summer break while I was in college and I still a love the store, which says something. One of my responsibilities that summer, oh so many years ago, was checking job applications against the list of people who had been caught shoplifting at the store. I tried not to roll my eyes when my supervisor gave me the assignment. Like anyone would be stupid enough to go to a store, try to shoplift something and get caught, only to return weeks or in some cases just days later to apply for employment. Well guess what? I learned at that tender young age that some people are that stupid.
The database (using the term liberally) that I used to check these applications was actually a black, plastic recipe box filled with 3x5 lined index cards listing last name, first name and date or offense or offenses, as the case may be. Of course, I am sure that Target now has a much more sophisticated database and many different ways to perform background checks, reference checks, even credit checks on potential employees that do not involve bored English Literature majors trying to pass the time until the beginning of the next semester.
I have often joked that a job at Target might be perfect for David as he grows older because of his insistence on wearing the color red; plus I secretly hoped he would be able to get us an employee discount. But, what if in addition to screening people who had already applied for employment, they also keep records of others that they hope never appear on the list of job seekers and would just move along already and start frequenting the Wal-Mart to the west.
First, we had the alleged shoplifting attempt involving the garden cart. Now, there is no way to link that little escapade back to us since Michael did what any good father would have done and pretended that he had never seen that child before as David went sprinting by in a red flash, heading for the exit with the coveted garden cart. If they had questioned David about the incident, his name would appear on that little 3x5 index card as Ginnie, his alias. So far, we're in the clear.
Well, then we have the problem of the red customer service telephones. Why, oh why do they need phones positioned throughout the store at exactly David's height? The fact that they are red must lead David to believe that they are certainly placed there solely for his amusement. It seems the minute I stop to look at something, David has one of the numerous phones off the hook and if I am not close enough to him to hang up immediately, he will answer the operator's inquiry with something clever like, "Hello, Krusty Krab. This is Ginnie." He just called himself "Ginnie." Now our cover is blown. And, now you can add prank phone calls to the shoplifting allegations.
Then, there is my well meaning husband. After Michael had returned two items, which required the customer service associate to run the scanner over no less than four bar codes, Michael momentarily forgot that he was not praising David for some major breakthrough and exploded with such an enthusiastic "GOOD JOB!" that the poor girl jumped a little and I am surprised she did not immediately report Michael to store security.
Do they have a three strike rule at the SuperTarget? I have not seen one of those signs that says, "We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone," so maybe we are okay.
Just don't tell our friends at Target about the time we caught David streaking through the backyard. Public indecency certainly would not help our cause.