Big Red is Watching.

July 30, 2008 – 7:15 am |

The woman behind the big red counter flipped open her red binder labeled “paid and left merchandise”. She was a sturdy woman with curly orange hair, who I am struggling not to call the ‘big red lady’. “Sorry,” she offered, “I don’t have any record of it.”

A few days ago at Target (for those who don’t know this already, my children still refer to Target, affectionately, as “The Big Red Store”) I bought one of those wooden saying signs.

You know the ones that say things like “Home is Where Your Story Begins.” They have more every time I go to Target (This is saying a lot. My sister insists she could send correspondence addressed to: Leo, c/o The Big Red Store on Rockford Road, and I would receive it).

After much deliberation I had chosen simple black letters: “Live. Love. Laugh.” (I would have bought one that just said, Smile, but they didn’t have one.) I planned to bring the thing home and put it on the shelf above the fireplace, perhaps flanked by some sturdy iron candelabras and big smelly candles. House decor is really not my forte. I paid for the thing, along with my other items, fed the kids lunch in the Target Cafeteria, and ran some errands.

But when I got home I didn’t have the sign. It wasn’t in the car, or in the bags, but it was on the receipt. Disappointed, I returned to Target, receipt-in-hand to see if anyone had turned it in.

“Oh, thanks anyway,” I told red, prepared to leave it at that, resigned to my $17.99 financial loss and contemplating whether this was itself a sign that I should avoid the sign decor trend.

“Oh” she said, “no, hold on.”

“I can just call Asset Protection and have them see what happened.”

I tensed, excited, curious. How could they see what happened? Did this mean what I thought it meant?

Surely, on some level I know I am being watched during my retail shopping endeavors, but could it be that easy to find me…

Then I got nervous … the kids were with me, what were they doing in the security line? What if they never put back that pack of gum? Had I paid for the water under my cart?

A moment later a stocky young man in a security guard uniform appeared. She handed him the receipt, “Can you check the tape and see if this item was left.” He disappeared behind the faux-mirrored door.

I started sweating. Luckily, thirty seconds later he reappeared. (Thirty seconds might be hyperbolic, but it was quick.) “The item was paid and left,” he confirmed.

They let me go back to pick another. But, alas, they were all gone. Definitely a sign.

In any event, I’ve been a little freaked out at the Target checkout line ever since.