Your faithful servant Alex here. I just wanted to write you to thank you for finally allowing me to realize the full joy of basic commerce in the downtown core. Before you came into my life, I had to bus all the way out to Jantzen Beach. There are fewer darker times man can face.
Target, I can never thank you enough for ending my years of misery buying household items at Rite Aid, where I was pretty sure I was getting a couple of the hepatitises every time I walked in. You are clean and beautiful in a way I didn't think was possible. I know you're shiny and new, but I have faith you'll stay shiny long after your newness wears off.
City (o), you are incredibly kind. I can tell. Every time I walk in (often!) I'm greeted by dozens of red-shirted helpers with huge grins. Sure, they have no idea where to find anything at this point, but I'm sure that'll get better when you've been open longer.
I love that you have a cartscalator! I feel like I'm living in the future! And I love your shiny, well constructed little carts. I'm sure the homeless population that will be living in them soon also thanks you.
Understand me, Target. I'm not blind to your faults. I realize you're a complicated, imperfect entity, just like I am. Your inventory is amusingly limited. Once your army of employees learn the store, I'm sure they'll skip from "let me check" right to "We don't carry that. Where do you think you are, Jantzen Beach?" In fact, I'll probably memorize your store as fast as your employees because you carry almost no merchandise.
But I love you for that too. It must be difficult to make a profit paying downtown rent and only carrying 15 or 20 things. But you're trying. You're trying for me, City Target! I'm honored to have your affection.
With love and kindest regards,