The Target Story

So...I was in Orange County...The OC, the City of Orange to be exact, and I was working on a thesis film for my dear friend Heather Coker. I needed some flow, because going without work - or some cash flow - (even when you're working hard), is just demoralizing. The plan was to save a few bucks to grab a place in L.A., so I went to the bullseye and put in an application.

I was called in about 3 days later for an interview, and it went really well. I was going to work overnight...well, kinda overnight...3 a.m. - 11 a.m., and I'd be working planogram. Anyone who has worked in retail knows exactly what I'm talking about. Setting up the store for sales, holidays, and generally for the next day's business. I should have seen the red flag waving when one of the employees asked me what dept. I'd be working in. When I said, "Plano," I thought I had induced a seizure...eyes got big, they stopped breathing, and it was followed by spastic laughter. "Good luck with that," they say. I stayed positive and thought, "They're talking about the hours." Oh... ...I wish it was the hours.

Another red flag started to wave after I was hired and came in for orientation. I hadn't been so bored since 1995, when I had to take one of those "Introduction to Campus Living" classes. There was a "Tarzhay" person there in charge of the orientation...someone from Human Resources I suppose...and she didn't take so kindly to me giggling uncontrollably at the video I had to watch on sexual harassment...but seriously, if you make a comedy, expect people to laugh! So, she asks me, "What department are you working in..." And I say, "Plano." Eyes get big, she stops breathing, and this time I take action. "What's wrong with Plano?" "Nothing..."

So, I'm supposed to start work after the first weekend of shooting the thesis. 3 days of principal sports photography, the final day taking place in the high desert. Needless to say, when 1 a.m. rolled around, I had slept for maybe 45 minutes...my sleep was interrupted with a little something I suffer from known as Panic Disorder. (Don't know what it is? Look it up...it's fantastic...almost as great as sex.) So, after getting my pulse down from 200 plus beats per minute, etc., I think to myself, "There's no way I can do this "training session" tonight." So, I call in, and I finally get slapped with the red flag...right in the face.

The "team leader," was the apparent reason the word "plano" had induced so many seizures. I explained that I felt awful, etc. and asked if I could START work at Target a day later. I had yet to clock in to the joint...She (who shall remain nameless) begins to tell me, that if I'm sick, she'll need to see a note from the doctor. At this point, I quit the job...but I was so appalled by what I was hearing, and felt I had nothing to lose, so I stayed on the line and saved my "resignation" for the right moment. I listened to everything she had to say about me starting my relationship in a very weak manner with the Target Corporation, and then I brought the thunder...(Keep in mind, the thunder was tired...very, very tired.)

I let her have a kind dose about her snap judgment on my character, that I took such assumptions very personal, and that ultimately I didn't think it was going to work out. I've never heard an individual backtrack so quickly in my life. "Oh no," she says, "I think you misunderstood what I was saying...I think you'd really like working on the team...Target's a great company..." What I heard was, "blah blah blah...please don't blah, tell my blah, superior, that I was a b blah i blah t blah c ... ..." I went in the next day, bought a few boxes of cereal and some milk with my employee discount card, and then went straight to the Human Resources office. When the same "orientation" lady asked me if I could offer a two week notice, I offered my own seizure of laughter, held up my milk and cereal and said, "no...no...that's not gonna happen, but I will continue to shop here!"