Black Friday

For “My Brits,” who occasionally drop by to visit my blog, here in the U.S. the day after Thanksgiving has been dubbed “Black Friday.” It is thus named because it marks the official kick off of the Christmas shopping season. It’s the day when retailers offer so-called “doorbuster” deals to entice shoppers to line up at their stores at ungodly hours of the morning, and store owners throw open their doors as early as 4:00a.m. The black part refers to the profit that many retailers “turn” during this frenetic shopping time.

There was a time, back in the day, when I had both less sense and…ironically…money than I do now, that I, too, would don my shopping armor and…fortified with a fistful of credit cards…venture out on this day. My friend, Linda, and I would get up early (not 4:00a.m. early, but early) and head up to the Huntington Mall to embark upon our day after Thanksgiving shopping extravaganza.

By noon, we would be so loaded down with shopping bags that we would trudge out to the parking lot where we stowed our bounty in the trunk of my car. We were the recipients of many angry looks and – probably – crude hand gestures from would-be shoppers when…instead of getting into the car and driving away…thereby, relinquishing that most coveted piece of real estate during peak shopping times known as the "parking space," we turned back toward the mall instead.

Ah, those were the days, my friends. And now, when I pause to reflect upon those distant times, I have to pause and ask myself, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Someone asked me the other day if I was going shopping the day after Thanksgiving and, without missing a beat or giving it a moment’s thought, I blurted, “I fell out of love with that a long time ago.” Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a bargain or a sale as much as the next person, but I figure if I can’t afford to pay full price for something, then I don’t need it.

Besides, I love technology. I mean, if I take a notion that I “have to have” something, I simply go to QVC.com or Amazon.com or “whatever” dot com, place my order and a few days later some kind soul delivers it to my door. I tell ya, if I didn’t have to work or occasionally venture out to forage for food, I’d never leave the apartment. The older I get, the more reclusive and agoraphobic I’m becoming.

So, today, instead of crawling out of bed in the wee small hours of the morning to go stand in line in the shivering cold with a bunch of over-aggressive shoppers who would think nothing of shoving me or anyone else out of their way in order to get to the object of their overweening desires, I slept in. In a moment or two, I’ll probably wander over to QVC, eBay, or Amazon and see what "must have" treasures I might be able to find. But for now, I'm happily snuggled under the covers, tip-tapping away on my laptop and watching the LOCI marathon on USA. Now, if I could just finagle a way to get a certain dashing detective delivered to my door, my life would be AUX QUAIS!!