I found myself in the undesirable position of shopping on December 23. It made me so stinking mad!
Discount the long lines at the register, the lack of percentage off on any item that I desired, and my inability to make a purchasing decision; I was already miserable because I could hardly get into the parking lot.
I started at North Hills Mall, a relatively new outdoor complex. On the back corner is a Target. I spend $118 there each week of my life.
I don’t know why, but every time I go, the sales clerk informs me that the total is $118. Target is so sophisticated that I scan my card and sign that I agree to the purchase before the employee even finishes scanning my items, so I can’t back out of it. Whatever the total, I’ve committed, I’m in. And it is usually $118.
I believe that a polite regular customer like me should be able to call in advance and reserve a parking place near the front. I mean, I’m there on a rainy Tuesday in February at 8:30 PM when no one else in the world is thinking about giving them $118. Shouldn’t they stand by me two days before Christmas when I’m at my most vulnerable purchasing moment?
“Hello. This is Danny Tanner, #118. I’m tired, frustrated and in a hurry.”
“We’ll have your spot coned off. Pull up right beside the basket return on row 2.”
It doesn’t have to be THE closest space, just top 20.
You’d think they’d offer that service. But no. I’m out there scrapping for an 8 foot by 12 foot space just like every other Tom, Dick and Harry – those damn dudes who haven’t graced the Target since last December. It’s like the once a year church goers. Where were you in July when the baby Jesus was 7 months old?
On the 23rd, I had to park six miles away from the front entrance. Even the spots reserved for “Parents with Children” were taken. I am a parent, and I have children. None of them were with me, but I was gonna park there anyway – nope, it was minivan city, not an opening to be found.
In the parking deck, there were three great spots. I approached all thinking I’d won the jackpot only to discover the sorry putz parked next door had crossed the painted line so far that there was no way to squeeze my mid-sized SUV in the space. I was livid! It is a time like this that I would like to put my car in park, get out and rake my house key down the entire driver’s side of the asphalt bogart’s vehicle.
And what is up with the “C” spaces. Compact cars get priority? I tried parking in one of those at Crabtree Valley but we all had to climb out the back hatch of the car. That ain’t cool, especially if you’re on a date.
Oh, and what about the always open reserved spots for plug-in cars? There is a 1 to 2,456 electric car to reserved electric car parking space ratio in the City of Raleigh. I would love to park my car, hook it up to a gas pump, and come back in an hour with a free full tank. What is up with that?
I finally found a space, well sort of. It was half a space right beside the curb and the mulched evergreen border. I parked two wheels on concrete and two on the greenery. I have that same plant by my driveway, and you can’t kill it. DJ backs over it daily and the stuff is a hearty as the day before she turned 16.
It ended up being fine, because I hadn’t jogged that morning. I got my three miles in, did not commit vandalism and purchased everyone’s favorite candy.
Next year I’m gonna start shopping in February. Anyone know the shelf life of Snickers?