I was offering some book/author recommendations to Lindy, and found it necessary to share a passage from my current read, "Bright Lights, Big Ass: A Self-Indulgent, Surly Ex-Sorority Girl's Guide to Why It Often Sucks in the City, or Who Are These Idiots and Why Do They All Live Next Door to Me?" by Jen Lancaster (a.k.a., one of my all-time favorite writers). The passage I shared refers to Lancaster's view on Target employees. Having been one herself back in the day when "work ethic" meant something, she has little use for the current herd. Nor do I. Plus, she's so on target (pun intended) in this description:
"As for the rest of the staff, they don't quite adhere to the rules of yore, either. Neck tattoos? Check. Hickeys and neck tattoos? Check. Giant gold nameplate necklaces that spell out M-u-t-h-a-f-u-c-k-a? Muthafuckin' check! I imagine of these cashiers manage to show up wearing pants not tenuously clinging to their kneecaps, their bosses are probably happy."
Lindy noted her aggravation with Target employees who repeatedly ask, "Are you finding everything OK?" Yes, they're just doing their jobs, but after a dozen or so times, it's too much. Seriously. I've been so tempted to respond, "No. I can't seem to find my sanity. Seen it? Or, how about my patience? I'm always losing that." As far as I'm concerned, as long as Target corporate hasn't mandated screwing with aisle markers just for giggles, I'm pretty sure I can navigate my way from the diapers to laundry soap and over to the toilet paper. I may get sidetracked in greeting cards or at the Burt's Bees display, but this isn't an Amazon jungle. It's TARGET.