Somewhere in America, there is a guy in a military surplus tent, eating military surplus food, on the sidewalk in front of a Best Buy store.
He is awaiting his chance at a Black Friday deal. Perhaps it’s a laptop computer for eleven dollars. Maybe it’s a 70-inch television for a handful of marbles and seashells. Whatever the item may be, it’s going to be his. After all, he’s been in line for Black Friday since last March.
The term Black Friday comes from the business idea that the start of the Christmas shopping season puts the retailers’ finances firmly in the black. Most retailers are nowhere near being in the red, but I imagine they came up with this explanation to justify sales events that cause suburban soccer moms to use their jiu jitsu skills to score a Barbie Dream House at a considerable discount.
I worked retail when I was younger and I don’t remember Black Friday being such an event. I probably should have capitalized that. Black Friday is now an Event!
My wife and I ventured out one Black Friday. Not to shop, really, but to watch the inevitable train wreck that would be played out before our very eyes. We were not disappointed.
We waited in line at Target for two, count ‘em, two hours to see this spectacle. People had brought full meals. One group of giggling women had brought a bottle of wine which they poured into plastic cups and drank while they waited. There were a couple of teenagers singing Christmas carols, but substituting off-color lyrics. Rudolph had something red, and it wasn’t his nose.
My wife and I had found ourselves in the middle of an event that was part “It’s A Wonderful Life” and part “Woodstock.”
The festive nature of the early morning ended when the doors of the store opened. I remembered the throngs of people crossing into the East and into the West when the Berlin Wall fell all those years ago. It was the same thing, albeit with less communism and more Sony Playstation.
In 30 seconds, a thousand people squeezed through double doors and immediately made their way to temporary displays of televisions, game consoles, small electronics and toys. Husbands went one way, wives went the other. Divide and conquer.
My wife and I lasted about 10 minutes. We saw the absolute worst behavior in our fellow man. One day after we all gave thanks for all the simple things in our lives, we witnessed otherwise rational people stop short of pulling switchblades over stuffed plush Olaf. We heard words exchanged that would get folks arrested on any other day.
The Target employees were overwhelmed. Throughout the store, anyone wearing a red shirt was strong-armed and threatened with violence if the customer could not find the must-have gift of the year. Empty Starbucks cups littered the floor.
It was that year we learned our lesson. We would not go back out on Black Friday.
Our holidays are much simpler. We have a simple day with our younger daughter. We awaken early, have coffee and breakfast and watch the Macy’s parade. Afterward, my wife usually starts cooking and our daughter and I watch the televised dog show.
We don’t really care much about the show, but we like dogs and there are some pretty nice looking dogs in the show. I always root for the beagle, because I think he’s the unsung hero of the dog show. It’s kinda like rooting for the lone accountant in the Mr. Universe contest.
Eventually, after hours of preparation, dinner is served and for 15 minutes, we consume enough turkey and trimmings to kill a bull moose. And then we rest.
As mentioned above, we don’t use the day after Thanksgiving for shopping. Occasionally, I’ll have to work. I steer clear of the malls and retail stores on that day. Don’t get me started on the stores that open on Thanksgiving itself.
When I was a kid, and even as a young adult, everything was closed on Thanksgiving and Christmas, except for gas stations and the odd convenience store. Nowadays, the trend is to open at 6 p.m. on Thanksgiving and get a jump on everything. The last thing I want to do after eating 20 pounds of turkey, potatoes and stuffing is go shopping with everyone else in town.
Since this column usually appears in the newspaper on Friday, some of you will read this on the morning of Black Friday. If you do go shopping, remember a few things:
What you are looking for in the store is not so much of a deal that you have to hurt someone to get it. There will be more after Black Friday.
Be polite to the employees of the stores. They want things to go as smoothly as possible and things won’t go as smoothly as possible if you threaten them with bodily harm if you can’t get the TV you want.
Keep in mind, the things you were thankful for on Thursday, well, they still apply on Friday.
Baltimore native Joe Weaver is a husband, father, pawnbroker and gun collector. From his home in New Bern, he writes on the lighter side of family life.