I’m getting my brass knuckles ready.
I’m tucking my hair up in a hat so no one can pull it, wearing steel-toed boots and no jewelry.
Okay, so maybe that takes the situation to the extreme. But you have to be prepared. Black Friday turns ordinary people into lunatics.
A few years back, I got a black eye from a rabid shopper.
Wal-mart was having a SUPER special with $99 televisions. My grandmother’s TV was on the fritz, so my mom, aunt and I went out with the rest of the early birds to take advantage of the deal.
When we got to the store, a manager pointed us in the direction of a pallet of televisions, still encased in a plastic wrap so no one could take a TV before the sale started.
We, and a few other people, stood patiently by the televisions until 6 a.m.
One of the workers began to unwrap the televisions and a frenzy started. People came from out of nowhere.
Grown men were sitting on each other’s shoulders and grabbing televisions left and right. They were working in packs, piling them into shopping carts.
One woman planned to buy six of the TVs— one for each of the three kids’ rooms, one for the garage, one for the kitchen and one for the basement.
We just needed one.
As the crowd began to thin a bit, I moved in and picked up a television. I turned around and started back toward my mom and aunt.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, came a woman with crazed eyes.
She placed her hands on the box I was carrying and turned it sideways so a corner was pointed at me. She shoved the box corner into my eye and knocked me flat on the floor.
My mom gasped and ran toward me.
Ms. Crazy placed the television in the buggy with two others she had already collected and glanced back at us.
Whatever “crazy lady” had was contagious. I was infected. I left my family and took off running. “Crazy” must not have been expecting an attack from behind.
I simply maneuvered between her and her cart, placed my hands on the handle and took off running.
About a minute later, I found myself in the shoe department, giggling like a mad woman with a black eye and a television in hand. (I did leave the other two behind for another shopper to find.)
See, lunatics. All of us.
Two years ago, the sale excursion didn’t land me in the emergency room. But it was just as eventful.
I was in the market for a laptop for work and Circuit City had advertised them for $199. It was a deal almost too good to be true.
My mom and I had planned to go a couple of hours early and sit in the car until the store opened to make sure we were close to the front of the line.
At 10 p.m. on Thanksgiving, we were watching the news. A reporter was outside the Circuit City in Pensacola where people had already lined up to claim their laptop.
We thought, surely, no one would be at the Fort Walton location.
So we loaded up the car on a discovery expedition. Sure enough, there were already five people in line.
We went back home and bundled up. We gathered a couple of chairs and sleeping bags and went back to the store, thinking we’d stay in the car because no one else was going to show.
Apparently, everyone in Fort Walton had watched the same newscast we did.
Cars began to pull up, one after another. We got out and stood in line.
Before the store opened at 6 a.m., the line of people waiting for a laptop stretched from Circuit City to Quizno’s Subs.
It was cold and we should have just gone home. But the holiday shopping experience is infectious.
First, first, first. Me, me, me. I want, I want, I want.
Parents want their kids to have the latest Elmo, even though the child is probably too young to even know who Elmo is. People feel the need to give the latest gaming system, no matter what the cost.
A lady in North Alabama sold her place in line last year at Wal-mart for a Playstation 3 for a hefty 900 smackaroos.
That’ll buy her a Playstation AND whatever else her kid’s heart desires for Christmas.
I call it the “Christmas crazies.” No one is immune. Everyone gets swept up in wanting to find the perfect gift for their loved ones.
Let’s just remember we all have the same desire to see a smile on the faces of people who unwrap their presents from us.
And let’s try not to give anyone a black eye this season.