Black (And Blue) Friday

The other night, I saw a pretty disturbing episode of some crime drama on t.v. I remember thinking as I watched it that it's a good thing this is just crazy fiction and that people aren't really depraved monsters. Unfortunately I changed my mind about that today. Why? It's called Black Friday.

My sisters love the mayhem of the biggest shopping day of the year. I have joined them once or twice at around 8:00 a.m., long after the carnage has ceased. They always try to get me to come and I always say that I will, if I feel like getting up at Oh-Dark-Thirty. Hadn't happened yet. Until today.

Due to my unfortunate eating of too much dinner and then playing too much football (did I mention that my sister and I are a little competitive?), I got very little sleep last night. I was awake at 4 am anyway, so I thought I'd see what it's all about.

The number of cars on the road shocked me. When I pulled into the rainy Wal-Mart parking lot, I knew I was in trouble. I parked somewhere in Indiana and ran into the store in the rain.

When I got through the door, it was like I had entered a war zone. Some guy was standing there handing out maps. Groups of women in battle-mom fatigues (track pants and hoodies-- at least I was dressed correctly) were standing around with grease pencils and walkie-talkies making attack plans. I felt like I'd just stepped into Faluja.

They knew where to go and what to do. I had no clue where to start. I knew that my sisters where somewhere in the "hot zone", but they could have been anywhere between the $4 pajamas and the $399 flat panel big screens. I started to sweat.

All of the war booty was wrapped in cellophane and guarded by an unfortunate Wal-Mart operative. Crazy people were standing around with their hands on the piles, waiting for the 5 o'clock bell. Every minute or so, an announcement came over the loud speaker counting down to lift off and stirring up the crowd to near frenzy level. I knew I was out-planned, out-manned and generally out of luck. I camped next to the $4 track suits and hunkered down.

I've never seen anything so crazy as the moment when the bell went off. People grabbed as many $2 DVDs as they could get their hands on. (Do you really need 18 copies of August Rush?) A group of 30 women fought over 10 Kitchen Aid Mixers and nearly smothered a 70 year old woman who had the nerve to grab two.

I grabbed some fleece lined slippers, a hoodie and some stuff for my boys and decided to bail-- most of the stuff I wanted was at Target anyway. I got in line and watched in amazement as the organized units of women ran their battle plans. One would stand in the line with two carts and the others would run back and forth hauling in the loot. My armful of crap was pitiful in comparison. When I heard them announce that anyone with less than 20 items could go to the service desk, I ran, but I didn't need to. I was the only one with such a lame load. I left quickly with my head hung in shame.

To make too long a post a little shorter, I'll just say that I did a little better at Target. I had to stand in line for 45 minutes in the cold, but it gave me time to make a plan. It also gave me time to gather my troops and get a strategy. We got most of the stuff we wanted, stood in the check out lines for about an hour, tried to fight off all of the hosers who were butting in line (lost some of those battles), and made some new standing-in-line-together comrades.

I was home before my family even woke up. I fought hard for my $200 worth of Christmas shiz. I saved about $100 all told I think. Next time I'm going to pay my sister the $100 to get my stuff for me and I'm staying in bed.