The only good thing about Black Friday is that I now have that song in my head. Welcome to Black Friday, the day that throngs of people assault retail stores in droves for After Thanksgiving Day sales. If we were to apply the adage that time is money, then I think a sound argument could be made for staying home today, especially if you don’t like the process of shopping in the first place. For one thing, the extra time spent zig-zagging to clear a walking path and gasping for any extra lingering oxygen in the air might as well equal the amount of money you’re saving, not to mention the added stress of being surrounded by women going apeshit over a sale. And believe me, they can get vicious.
Don’t get me wrong, I love material goods and beautiful clothes and gadgets just as much as the next girl, but to traverse through crowds of rabid women in primal acquisition mode sounds truly horrifying. I would rather have hot forks poked in my eyes. Lest anyone think I’m a detractor of capitalism and free markets, one can always bundle up in a plush robe, pour a cup of hot tea and click away in bed, wrapped in a down comforter to the sounds of Steely Dan’s urbane Black Friday – and still feel just as legitimately American. Even if you do enjoy shopping, why would any one with fully firing synapses voluntarily choose to subject themselves to the worst lunacy of the season? Let us hope that what happened last year was our rock bottom.
The draw of Black Friday is, to me, just as baffling as the type of reaction that ensues when Jamba Juice, for instance, announces they’re giving away free smoothies. Free smoothies!!!!! AAAAAAAAGGGH! RUN, do not walk to the nearest Jamba Juice. I witnessed this recently: news reached the masses that a free smoothie was to be had at Jamba Juice (retail value: $4) and in a matter of minutes there forms a line winding around three corners of the block. You would think that Robert Pattinson was there signing autographs and holding a raffle for a marriage proposal. But no, all of this waiting over a $4 cup of sugar. Maybe I’m missing something, but based on the time spent wasting in line is this free $4 smoothie really worth it? One hour of your life for a free smoothie? I would rather have the time thank you. It’s incredible the rose-colored glasses we look through when we hear the word “free” or “sale.” I refuse to be hypnotized by these words. Who knows, with all of these bargain shoppers out and about stampeding the streets, maybe my internet connection will run faster as the cyber world becomes a Ghost Town.