Black Friday Bust

Black Friday has become Black Thursday as stores in my neck of the woods opened as early as 4 p.m. on Thanksgiving.  I’ve never gone in for the early shopping despite rumors this year that you could get a giant plasma TV for $99 at Walmart—don’t go there, ever.

As a kid I remember the Thanksgiving Day paper was huge, thick with ads—“double truckers” as I would later learn as a writer whose pay depended on advertising. But despite early indoctrination and the bombardment of ads on TV, I still do not do Black Friday. Retailers everywhere are booing me. I’m the kind of consumer that costs people their jobs. Not really—but I hope those required to work on Thanksgiving were paid time-and-a-half.

I do enjoy a good deal, but not how we are enticed into action by the thrill (?) of buying something at a huge discount while pushing and shoving in a store as to be documented on tonight’s TV local news.

Here is the favorite deal of my life for those who worry that I am a consumer recluse: Ordered a king sized duck down comforter in 1986 from a well-known company in New Jersey. We were living in California. Pricey. Company sent us a queen. I complained about the size mistake. Outcome: management said I could keep the queen—no kings would be available for another month—for no charge. That’s right. Free. Beat that Walmart!