The sliding doors opened automatically as Jared Dahl entered the Target. He had been here many times before. On this occasion, he had to buy a mixer. That was what he called such a device. The modern vernacular was a food processor.

Entering the stores on his right, he walked past the items that were on sale at the front of the store. These items paralleled the cash registers. Jared assumed they were there to keep the people entering and exiting the store from meeting. It probably helped keep thefts down. On his left, was a Subways. He didn't care.

Inside the store, he approached the women's apparel department. He turned right and walked down the long corridor. He didn't have any idea where the mixers were. To his right, he passed the pretty (and some not-so-pretty) apparel. He didn't pay the merchandise any mind. Next, he found the isles that contained the grocery part of the store. He continued walking past the foods. Past the registers, on his right, was the customer services area. After that on the right was the employee services area. Looking to his left, Jared supposed the next section was stationary. The section after that was housewares. He turned the corner and saw 'Automotive' on his right. Then paints and home improvement. Soon he had circled the entire store and was returning to the door he entered. Jared didn't know where to find a mixer.

Jared had to make another circuit around the store. This time he would stroll down the aisle perpendicular to the main walkway. The first section was on the border of the women's department. He walked through the pretty clothes, a short while later he was passing the lingerie, then the girl's department which was similar in its way to the women's department. He made a right and then found the next aisle.

Finally, after a fruitless search, he spotted an employee. The seventeen-year-old clerk was wearing a red tank top which left her bare shoulders exposed and a pair of jeans, with some sneakers. She wore too much makeup and her hair was in a ponytail. Jared didn't think she looked very professional at all. Regardless, with the name tag affixed to her top, she was clearly an employee.

“Hello,” Jared greeted her.

“Hello sir, how can I help you today?”

“I'm looking for a mixer.”

“A mixer?”

“Yeah, you know, something that mixes.”

“Mixes paint? The paint department is...”

Jared cut her off. “No mixes food.”

“Well, the household essentials department is...”

“You had better take me.”

“But this is my department.”

“Come!”

The sales associate didn't want to leave her area, but she had to if a guest requested her. The sales associate circumvented the maze that was the Target sales floor and arrived in the housewares department. Jared walked behind her staring at her bare shoulders. He didn't know why she wasn't wearing a professional-looking shirt. It didn't have to be a blouse, but it should have covered her shoulders and had a collar. Professional appearance was important he thought. Even though the associate didn't have full breasts, she wasn't wearing a bra at all, as Jared thought she should. Also, look at those jeans, they were new and clean, but they looked painted on. A young lady should be wearing a skirt. Didn't Target mandate that their employees wear a red top and khaki-colored bottoms?

“It should be here,” the sales associate explained to Jared.

“Where are the mixers?”

“Umm, maybe they are in the kitchen and dining department instead.”

“You should know. You should know what's in the store.”

“I can't know everything. This isn't my department.”

“How hard is it to look around and familiarize yourself with the store.”

“I know where all the departments are. I just don't know.”

“This must be your first job. You have to take pride in the work you're doing. You have to go above and beyond. Look at how you're dressed.”

“I'm wearing the store uniform. I can wear...”

Cutting the sales associate off. “You can wear jeans and a tank top when you are at the park.”

“As long as the top is red, and the bottoms are jeans or khaki I can wear them.”

“Where is your sense of pride?” Jared was yelling at the sales associate. Finally, he told her, “I want to see your manager.”

Another guest was watching the scene as the associate walked quickly to find a supervisor. Jared's personality changed instantly. He decided that he needed to work at Target and do the best job possible. Everything he thought that the sales associate should be he would do. He hadn't a job at Target yet, but he was completely devoted to Target.

Jared walked over to the employee services area and picked up an employment application. Jared looked at the pamphlet that came with the application. It proclaimed in big broad letters “Join Our Team!” It went on to say, “Wherever and however Target fits into your career path, our belief stays the same: don’t just work somewhere, work somewhere you love. Explore our career areas to learn more!”

Jared focused on the words, 'Work someplace you love'. He believed no truer words could be said. He would love to work at Target.

Looking over the dress code he saw what was required red shirt, khaki pants or jeans, closed-toe shoes, and makeup is permitted. He wanted to do better than the minimum requirements.

Jared couldn't fill in and hand in the application now. He would have to make a resume too. He would do so tomorrow. Regardless, he knew he would get a job at this wonderful place.

Jared walked to the women's department to find apparel appropriate for working in the store. As he approached, knowledge flooded his head about the inventory of the woman's apparel department. He now knew every style, color, and size of the women's apparel. He couldn't possibly know whether any given garment was in stock, but if it was he knew where it should be.

He looked for red shirts first. He knew what he wanted, the shirt had to have a collar, so he wouldn't wear a t-shirt, tank, or hoodie. It was important to look presentable. The first top he spotted was a red polka dot chiffon blouse with a bow tie and peter pan collar. He liked it, it was very pretty, but the shirt wasn't completely red (as it had polka dots) and the peter pan collar didn't seem right. He might get it later he thought.

The second shirt he would was a red satin button-up blouse with a point collar. It was perfect. He put it into his cart when he found the correct size.

Jared saw red top after red top in the women's department, but if it didn't have a collar, he would reject it. The next top he saw was more casual than the last. It was a red cotton short sleeve women's polo shirt with two buttons on top and a collar. He liked this shirt, and it went into the cart with the other one. Jared filled his cart with over a dozen tops. They were either blouses or polo shirts all red in hue with collars. His sleeves were a mixture of long and short and all were of a red hue. Every single one of them would be proud to wear to his new job when his application was finally approved.

Jared called his current boss where he worked.

“Hello,” his boss said.

“This is Jared Dahl, I'm quitting immediately. I won't be coming in. Thank you.”

“You're what?” Jared's shocked boss inquired.

Jared hung up the phone without another word.

Jared needed some skirts, not that his tops were selected. They all had to be khaki. There wasn't any way he was going to wear jeans or any type of pants. That was out of the question.

Jared found a Lands' End pleated above-the-knee adaptive ponte skirt. It Fastened in the back. Jared knew that as long as the skirt wasn't too short and was khaki it would be perfect. He put it into his cart.

The next skirt Jared selected was khaki, of course, this time it was below the knee in length and had a straight A-line cut. He noticed that the skirt had a zipper on the size with a hook-n-eye closure.

In the end, Jared selected as many skirts as he did tops. They were of different sizes, from above the knee to maxi-length, they fastened in front, back, side, or with an elastic waist. Some had pleats some did not. He could mix and match all of his skirts with all of his tops in any order he liked.

Jared knew he couldn't wear his skirts bare-legged. The pamphlet didn't say anything about the hose, but Jared knew that it would be best to always wear pantyhose at work. He walked to the hosiery section of the women's department.