Friday, November 26, 2010

Ode to the Black Friday Warrior

Oh she revels in all the anticipation. She has been in her spot since last Thursday. There behind her in the shrubs the store pays landscapers to weed, water, and trim is her pup tent; the grass is now looking decidedly brown. What is a cold snap to her that caused her less prepared competitors to be hauled off for frost-bite or malnutrition? Nothing at all, she is giddy when each is carted off because that is one less person after her precious quest. For she is at her Mecca, her Valentino lover beckons as she stands at her temple’s doorway in exultation. Clutched in her warm mitten clad hands are her offerings to the mercantile deities, her credit cards that are lovingly arranged in alphabetical order in the faux calf-skin organizer she had to fight off three other women to acquire a previous year. She will not be denied her chance at sales glory even as her husband works two jobs and her children have learned once again that Mommy is a bit special this time of year. So what if her dear husband and kids spent Thanksgiving at McDonalds and brought her a Happy Meal, she has a higher calling. At precisely one minute after midnight all will be revealed to this devoted disciple to wanton consumerism.

Then the Red Sea is parted as the doors are unlocked and the workers run for cover behind the sandbag barricade. Department workers stand ready while wearing catcher gear, wondering if it will be Bobby in Toys or Sue in Electronics that will be hauled off to a hospital. They all kiss their employee badges as a sign of fervent prayer that it will not be them this year buried as they hear the thundering roar of so many feet in heels clatter their way. And then workers are face to face with that which fills them with such dread even, the untamed and wild female bargain shopper herd that the store’s own advertisements have lured to this commercial watering hole. Like the scent of fresh water entices animals to abandon all caution in the Sahara they come. The workers tremble in fear.

And the next second it has happened. Our happy warrior of conspicuous consumption has found her watering hole. She elbows and gouges other women as they all stampede over the poor workers to reach their individual holy grails that are held within. Her Timmy will not be denied that Zurg blaster from Toy Story 3, oh no! After a vicious battle that leaves two women bleeding on the floor with torn jackets, she is off to her next quest. She has to secure Sally a Tinker Bell doll. This results in an unfortunate worker being body-slammed into the Elmo display, but victory again is the result. She does a happy dance on the body of another shopper who lost in the struggle and has to settle for a Tinker Bell without wings. Ah the sweet ambrosia of victory our shopper exults.

Let us end this happy story here. Fade to black as she relives her track&field days by jumping human hurdles to make it over to Electronics and Starcraft 2 for her dear husband. Oh what a loving wife our heroine is.

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