Black Friday

The greatest shopping day of the year isn't great because of the deals; it's great because of the stories. I don't really need a Samsung MP3 player when I have an elite iPod. I don't really need a free Xbox game in exchange for sitting in the cold air for 3 hours. Sure, there are people who truly need the deals in order to make their holiday budget work, but I often spend my Black Fridays in line for some frivolous item, not a money saver.

I do it for the stories. In just one day, I told my Black Friday war story—sitting in line, drinking hot cocoa, fighting for my doorbuster bracelet—to my Grandma, Mom, Dad, my brother, and the guy who works at the Mail Center. I shocked them with the horrific conditions and the bloodshot eyes, and when they are reeling from adrenaline, I roll up my sleeve and show the scars and spoils of war.

And like all great war stories, there isn't just one enemy; there are several. The late hour and the long, twisting lines are the obvious foe, fighting you face to face with brute strength. But the cunning foes, your fellow individual shoppers, they are the one who flank you from the side and snipe you with psychological warfare.

Three hours in front of Old Navy, two ladies dangled inane conversations in front of me. Every noun was preceded by a swear-word adjective. Every topic concerned only the boorish riff raff of society. They let their friends cut in line. And to top off their arsenal during the Black Friday war, they blew clouds of cigarette smoke in my face.

I let it slide for an hour, but with my lungs feeling palpably fuzzy from the tobacco smoke, I took action. I asked them to please smoke farther away from the line. They gave me the 'stink eye' and begrudgingly moved their poisonous habit a mere five feet away still drenching me with funk.

I'm sure they weren't bad people. I'm sure they were simply irritable like we all were. I did my best to accommodate their psychological warfare without resorting to physical violence. I was still feeling thankful and positive from Thanksgiving...and, because of that, those ladies should be thankful I didn't knock out all their tar-stained teeth with the curb.

Black Friday. What a great day. What great sales. I'm tired. I'm going to bed now.