Forget National Lampoon's whatever. I've got my own crazy escapades for the holidays.
It was Friday morning. Black Friday. Whether they call it "Black Friday" because of the darkness of the morning, the "in the black" retailers experience, or the blackness of hearts fighting over 42" plasma TVs I'll never know. Regardless, it was Black Friday, and indeed, the sky was black with the heaviness of
pre-dawn (matching the heaviness of my eyelids). With my mother incapacitated this year (my usual partner-in-crime), my father agreed to accompany me in my shopping endeavors... not because he likes to shop, not because he wanted to grab the good deals... but because he didn't want me to die from being trampled to death in the entryway of a major retailer.
I was up at 4 and out the door by 4:40, making a stop at White Castle for my dad's breakfast sandwich. We would make it to
Wal-Mart by 5, just when they opened. My goal: $25 printers, among other more trifling items. Christmas music filled the car for the first time since last December. I was energized-- ready for the day and ready for the season. I'll even go so far as to say that my father, the antithesis of the typical Black Friday shopper, was energized. Then we rounded the corner towards the
Wal-Mart parking lot.
Cars. Lots and lots of cars. There were so many cars that we parked across the street. That was our first bad sign and should have been our cue to leave. But we didn't. In the darkness, we
began to cross the street. Dad started to run-- not because there were tons of cars coming, but I don't know, I guess because it's a habit to run across a street rather than walk or trot. Naturally I followed suit. That is, until my feet and my brain stopped communicating. As is commonplace when I begin to fall, time slowed and I knew what was coming but could do nothing to stop it. Smack in the middle of the street, at 5 in the morning, Black Friday morning, I fell. I didn't just fall though. I
wiped out. Smack on my knee, my hands, sliding onto my side, twisting my back. If it hadn't hurt so bad, I would have laughed. But my dad wasn't laughing-- he was completely freaked out (which makes it that much funnier now), thinking probably several things: he now would have two invalid women in his house, I would get hit by a car as I lay helpless in the middle of the street, and/or he hoped no one had seen this embarrassing display. I hobbled to the curb and waited for the pain to subside, then limped over to
Wal-Mart only to find they were at capacity and the line curved around the store.
It was all for nothing. I had busted my knee, scraped my hands and side, and wounded my pride only to walk around the building in the cold, printer-less. I watched people exit the store with those printers. "I just fell in the street in order to get that!!" I wanted to scream. But I knew they'd probably scream back, "I have been waiting in the cold since 11 last night. I haven't showered, slept, or gone to the bathroom since then," and their crotchetiness would have made me reply with, "Well, you can take your printer and..."
But none of that happened. I hobbled back to the car and we tackled Target, Kmart, and returned to
Wal-Mart, successful for the most part. I, a kind of Captain Ahab, had gotten my great white whale-- an electric toothbrush (you know you're getting old when) that was cut down to $40 (after which I would receive a $10 rebate and get the toothbrush for about 70% off). My Christmas shopping is now 98% complete, and I put a big dent in my mom's list.
At what price? A bruised knee, a bruised ego, a few scrapes, and tired eyes. If I looked simply at the events of the day, I'd say the deals and steals of the day do not make up for the perils of consumerism. But I looked beyond the events, and I see a memory made with my dad (he has given himself the "father of the year" award), a source of laughter for others (at great physical cost, though I really cannot stop laughing about it now... I'm laughing at this very moment, in fact), a Christmas list happily completed, a kind stranger helping us out, the satisfaction of getting a great deal and being a good steward of money, seizing the day, the joy of the beginning of the Christmas season, and the opportunity to help my mom with her shopping.
It's all about the attitude. Unlike the rumored fistfights that were
occurring over TVs at
Wal-Mart, and unlike the men and women who waited in line all night for products not for their families but to turn around and sell at a higher price, I went with the hope of bringing joy and being a good steward. And so for me, my experience, despite the perils of consumerism, was a positive one. Don't knock it till you try it.
