The mad dash at midnight
I’ve always dreamed of Black Friday shopping, but I never thought I’d actually go — sort of like how I read The Hunger Games, but I never thought I’d actually participate in them.
My mom prepared the best Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, equipped with moist turkey, creamy mashed potatoes and thick gravy — something akin to a last meal. Talk of Black Friday shopping arose. I grew uncomfortable as I realized how smart it is to purchase Christmas gifts at such great discounts. I caved.
I swapped my dress and heels for a sweat suit and tennis shoes. I needed to be comfortable if I was to participate in, what I now like to call, the Black Friday Hunger Games. That 20/20 hindsight will really open your eyes to the night America grows hungry for more than cranberry sauce and pie.
My boyfriend came along with me to the local mall. Walking in at 11:30 p.m., everyone was preparing for the games; groups whispered tactics to each other and mothers acted as mentors to their pre-teen, first-time-Black-Friday-shopping children. I became nervous.
I walked around and saw a large crowd. I assumed this is where I was supposed to go. Suddenly, the clock struck midnight and there was a loud gasp followed by deafening silence. A gate’s lock turned and in my head a booming countdown began. As the gate lifted, the crowd surged through the doors.
Much to my surprise, there was no cornucopia of survival supplies. No, I was staring at bras, panties and lingerie. Victoria’s Secret attracted the biggest crowd that fateful night. I was being pushed and shoved and tossed and turned. I panicked: What would Katniss do? Oh that’s right, she was told to run in the complete opposite direction!
I turned myself around and took refuge in Sears. Wait, this still exists? Not a soul could be seen for miles, or departments. Where was Peeta, I mean, my boyfriend? I think I lost him somewhere in the stampede. Oh well, it was Victoria’s Secret; he was fine.
I decided to look around this foreign land called Sears. I stumbled upon the purses. Much to my surprise, a nice cross-body leather messenger was 50 percent off. I was practically stealing it! Nevertheless, I paid and asked no questions. I hope I didn’t just add my name to next year’s Reaping.
Courage came over me and I decided to venture into another store. Though I know how this story is supposed to end: one winner. I made a mad dash to Macy’s and there met up with my boyfriend. He was unharmed by the ravenous females.
After fighting off sleep-deprived shoppers and bombarding sales people, we shared an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and headed home. Because we came out unscathed, we were the true winners. At 2:30 a.m. I laid my head down safely inside my home. That moment I vowed never again to venture into the Black Friday Hunger Games.
To all the loyal shoppers who will do this again next year: May the odds be ever in your favor.
