My Name is Ingrid...

"My name is Ingrid, and I'm addicted to Target."

I did not say those words!

They were spoken to me by the sweet concierge who greets me when I enter my hi-rise home in Seattle.  I wish I could deny this assertion, but it's true.  I may have a Target problem, but let me explain.

Living in the heart of Seattle, I do my grocery/housewares shopping in two locations.  The first is the phenomenal Pike Place Market where I get produce, meat, fish, flowers and a host of other items like thick balsamic vinegar and interesting spice mixes.  But the bounty doesn't end there!  Thankfully, a few years ago, a City Target opened half a block away, and I can't imagine life without it.  Anything I can't get in the Market, I can find in Target.

This is kind of my Target motto

City Targets are a slightly different breed than the superstore you may be used to way out in the sticks.  The stores are much smaller, and in an existing building.  They tend to sell items that in smaller packaging to fit in smaller urban households.  They don't play music—do they play music in the suburban stores?

We have lots of colorful shoplifters!  Just the other day, I witnessed a man heading for the exit with a large bottle of Johnny Walker protruding from his sweatshirt.  It looked as if he were suffering from an unusually-shaped goiter, which did not fool Security, as you can imagine.


Where else can I find workout shirts for my husband, pork loins, candles, and ear buds.  In the market for a pool float?  I can't imagine why you would be in the downtown shopping district, but Target's got you covered.

Feeling virtuous?  Pick up a yoga mat and some steel cut oats.  Feel like breaking some dietary guidelines?  Look no further than aisle three on the first floor.

Another reason to revel in the warm glow of Target?  The store is inclusive (after some rough patches in the early years), both in its merchandise and in its hiring practices.  Want to know what America really looks like?  Come to my Target where the employees span races, ethnicities, religions, and gender.  We're all together, getting along!

My one bone to pick:  The book section of my store keeps shrinking, and I suspect this is true across the country.  It's tucked away in a corner on the third floor, where there is no foot traffic.  If you're looking for a padlock or a fishing lure, you might stumble upon it, but otherwise, it's a sad little spot with few visitors.  Come on, Target!  More books!

So I've admitted my addiction in a very public way, and I already feel better.  So good, in fact, that I may just have to wander over to Target later today and pick out a new nail polish.  Or a bottle of wine.  Or a shower caddy...

What about you, Reds and Readers?  Do you have a store that is your happy place?

And a little housekeeping: Brian Vincent, you've won a copy of David Joy's book!  Denise Ann, you've won a copy of Christine Carbo's latest since the first winner was a no-show!  Please send your mailing addresses to ingrid@ingridthoft.com.