Monday, July 19, 2010

You Are A Target Market

Y'all, Trader Joe's -- they know who they're fucking dealing with at 8:00 a.m. on a Sunday.

Specifically: Me (36-year-old Prius-driving advanced-degree-holding white married mom) and my kid (toddler who wears a Beatles T-shirt and sings a mashup of "I Love Rock 'n Roll" and "Rockaway Beach" while dancing around the banana tree near the entrance).

They put out those little shopping carts for the kids. They have stickers and sometimes balloons. They play a never-ceasing mix of good shit from the 80s-90s (with the occasional 60s, 70s or 00s tune thrown in for variety) -- basically my first 50 or so CDs on rotation (demographic targeting, WHOA). There's a sample bar, with something breakfasty for the kid and GOD JESUS SHATNER AND ALL THE SAINTS! coffee for me. The people who work there (at that shift, at least) either really do dig kids, or they are all super-high, and I do not even a little bit care which. Everything's organic, the fruit is so pretty it looks like candy, there's plenty of stuff at a kid's eye level that is actually OK TO GIVE TO A KID!

So weird to find myself -- an X-er who sneers at being marketed to -- pretty much the living embodiment of a marketing/merchandising sketch ... but the shit WORKS. I ain't spending my early-a.m. weekly hundy-and-a-half at Safeway, you know? It's like they're reading my goddamn mind.

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