A Friday for us all
Column like I see 'em
Black Friday is my kind of day. If you don't know what I'm talking about, let me set it up for you.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving. You sat at a table and talked with people you love while stuffing yourself to the fullest of your capability with your favorite foods.
Since Thanksgiving lunch was late in the afternoon it also encapsulated dinner, which means your food coma hit earlier than normal and you passed out hard around 7 p.m. That was by design.
Cut to you parking outside Best Buy at 2 a.m. and getting in a line already three hundred strong. It's in the low twenties, your flip-flops aren't insulating your toes like you thought they would, and the people surrounding you are miserable, and angry they didn't get here earlier.
Black Friday is a mad celebration of everything consumerist. Stores are bringing in record numbers of shoppers and making the most profit all year, and at the same time people are lining up for deals of a lifetime. Some people say it's crazy and aggressive and exhausting and not at all worth your time, but those people are doing it wrong.
Let me tell you how to do Black Friday right.
The problem people have with Black Friday is everyone operating under the assumption that the early bird gets the worm. I mean, that's technically true, but the worms they're looking for are the 75 percent off giant TV worms, or the eight person triple threat jet jacuzzi for twenty bucks worms.
Those are the worms they advertise in the little pamphlets they mail to everybody, but in truth they only have like ten, or less, of those worms. The secret to Black Friday is to widen the horizons of what you might consider a worm.
While all those angry, ravenous birds are in the Thunderdome straight murdering each other over a couple choice worms, you just slink on past to the smaller, more numerous worms.
I, for instance, go to the electronics center, and while the attention is on the overweight soccer mom who has a city councilman in a German suplex, I sneak over to the DVD section, seemingly untouched by these barbarians. I got every season of "Psych" for ten bucks each. It's usually forty dollars.
They have shows from two or three years ago and they’re just dirt cheap. Clothes too! I got one of my favorites hats on Black Friday for like, pretty cheap.
Then there's the line you have to wait in. They build this special aisle that's a good two miles long and the entire thing is just lined with deals. It's a bit of a mind game since they force you to stand in that line for like three hours anyway.
I got a popcorn machine for fifteen bucks while waiting to buy those DVDs. It was a tiny popcorn machine, but, you know what? It made popcorn, and that made the DVDs that much better.
This year, I suggest you too come out the mad world of Black Friday. Just walk the opposite direction of the crowds.
You'll find something worthwhile, like the anthology of “Where's Waldo?” books for four bucks, or a special meatloaf pan for ten. It's so much easier to find deals and enjoy yourself if you just lower your standards and don't try to find anything.
Just go! And if you see a fist fight between a clergyman and his neighbor's four year old over the last microwave the store has to offer, that's just a perk. Enjoy it while you can, because you'll have to wait a whole year to see it again, and nobody wants to see a five year old get clotheslined.
Kevin Niederman is a junior studying nursing.