Friday After Thanksgiving

On Thanksgiving day we are all filled with love for our families, grateful hearts and a lot of food. Really good food. It's not everyday that we cook like this. We sit around with our pants too tight and decide that the only activity we can possible do is to look through the paper at all the ads for tomorrow's biggest shopping day of the year. And some people actually do just browse the ads for fun and curiosity. They continue to have a peaceful day, being the poster children for a successful Thanksgiving. Others, however, have only just begun...

It's those people, the ones who are responsible for my early retirement of the day after Thanksgiving shopping experience. Which by the way, I used to enjoy. Black Friday = black hearts.

After they-who-shall-not-be-named are done eating their Thanksgiving feast, they begin their mission. They don't browse the ads, but they devour them. They make lists, circle things, map out stores and items, write a time line and plot and plan. I'm sure they even practice some moves. Yes, this can get very physical. (I've got the scars to prove it.)

Here we all are, waiting like a herd of animals to finally be fed at 4:30 am. The store won't open for another half hour, but I got a fairly decent spot near the front of the line. It's cold and not so much fun being smashed in-between a bunch of strangers. How many of us actually brushed our teeth this morning? I know I didn't take the time. And who had time for deodorant either? Although, how much can you sweat when it's forty degrees outside?

My eyes are still stinging from waking up so early, my head is spinning a bit and my stomach is starting to growl. Why can't they just let us in? Who would actually lose their job by letting us in 15 minutes early anyway? Come on people! The natives are getting restless.

Finally, it's almost time. Some people are saying that their trusty atomic watches say it's 5:01 am. Let's all get really ticked about that now. Hey, what's that smell? Why in the world would someone think it's okay to pass gas when we're stuck here? There's no escape. Didn't we all just act nice and thankful for our blessings only yesterday (really just five hours ago was yesterday) and yet here you infect my lungs with that disturbing smell. Someone obviously had time to eat a sausage burrito.

We see the frightened employee approach the doors. We hear the people in front start to weep with excitement. He unlocks the door and runs. Let the combat shopping begin!

My plan was simple. I thought the shop-vac that was thirty dollars off would be nice for my husband. The digital camera that was fifty dollars off would be perfect for my daughter. I'll check that after the shop-vac. And lastly, a pack of Barbie clothes that is normally twelve dollars is now only three dollars. Who could pass that up? I don't have any kids who still play with Barbies, but I'll have grandkids one day, right?

I don't really walk into the store; I'm sort of being carried like a wave through the doors. I make my way toward the shop-vacs. I'm actually walking, but I'm being passed (and possibly lapped) by everyone else. I use my cart as armored protection. Others are using theirs too in more of an offensive way. I round the corner to see that the display has only one shop-vac left. I lift it up to put in the cart, but it's heavy. I turn to move the cart closer and as I'm turning back, a man has just loaded it into his cart. Dang!

Time to head over to the digital cameras. It doesn't really matter what color I get, she's going to love it no matter what. I'm smiling at the vision on Christmas morning when she opens it. Suddenly I'm jolted out of my daydream by screams. I look over to see two women fighting over the last camera. What? How is this happening? I ask one of the employees how many cameras they had. He let me know that there were only five in the store that were offered for the ad price. Only five? Okay, some of this vicious passion floating in the air is rubbing off on me. I give him a glare and say, "You know what buddy? I'm taking my shopping elsewhere." I'm pretty sure I heard a giggle as I walked away.

I'm getting the idea now. Instead of strolling along, I start to trot off to the Barbie section. Being the rebel I have now become, I just ditch my cart right there in the middle of the aisle. Hopefully the employee I just gave a piece of my mind to will have to put it back. Serves him right!

I see the sign above indicating that the Barbies are on this aisle, but I cannot see through to the actual aisle itself. There are swarms of women everywhere. I'm thinking that they must have more than five Barbie outfits. This is my chance to not go home empty-handed. I am so in there. I squeeze and worm my way into the battlefield. I know now this is just something I must do. Nice people have rights too!

I see them. There are about ten outfit packages left. I'm within arms reach. I'm going for the gold. I can be a winner today! Oh what luck that I've been shoved hard right up against the shelf. My eyes meet the last one left. Wow-how did that happen-again? Within seconds nine of them were grabbed and I was definitely going to get this last one. I thrust my arm forward like a striking snake. I feel the cardboard inside of my fingers. Yes, I did it! Victory is mine! I hold on tight as I lift my prize, thinking, here's to all you mean shoppers, all you who stole what was mine, you laughing employee, now sit back and bask in all my glory.

Ow! What the heck? I look down at the slicing pain on my hand as I watch the fingernail scratches start to swell. Looking back up, all I see is the smirk on a woman's face that is getting away with MY Barbie clothes. That's it! I tighten the grip of my purse with my non-throbbing hand, lift my head up high, do an about face and march out of the store with my dignity still in tact, which is more than I can say for the rest of the shoppers.

I go home and have a leftover turkey sandwich for breakfast (since it's only 6:00 am) and reflect on the fact that I am thankful that next year I will be sleeping soundly, warmly and unharmed in my bed as those others resume their battle of Black Friday.

This is a submission for Scribbit's write-away contest.