I’m done in.
And I blame Black Friday. For all of it.
Black Friday is a sham. A hoax. A trick to get you into stores to buy things you don’t really need. It’s a waste of precious time and even more precious energy.
Black Friday has ruined me.
I just wanted to spend time with my girls. Bonding, if you will. They were up for the adventure, and I’m always up for an adventure, so we set out to find . . . adventure. Who knew we’d find it in the parking lot?
On our way to the mall, I commented on the lack of traffic, which, in the Chicago area, is rare. We shrugged our shoulders and figured that everyone was probably sleeping in, leaving all the good deals for us.
Even the roads leading to the mall were pretty bare. I expected a lot more congestion.
We hit the parking garage at 9:45. So did the rest of Chicagoland.
Somewhere around 10:06 I dropped my older two at the Nordstrom door. I’m nothing if not particular about where I park, and it must be near Nordstrom. Otherwise I’d lose my car. (I learned this trick from my mom—she always parked by Marshall Field’s. My husband swears that you can learn a lot about someone by where they park at the mall. Whatever that means.)
Anyway, another 15 minutes later (that’s 36 minutes of driving around, just in case you weren’t paying attention) I was in tears saying, “How come everyone else keeps getting a parking place and I don’t?” There may have been some foot stomping involved. And all the while Maggie was rubbing my shoulder saying, “It’s O.K., Mom. Somebody will leave eventually.”
Eventually somebody did, and eventually I did get to park my car near Nordstrom. (Just for the record, I did try other areas of the mall, but everything was filled.)
But my day was ruined, and every other Black Friday heretofore has been ruined for me.
I did try to make the best of it, but once inside the mall things didn’t get any better. After a couple of hours of getting pushed, shoved, and generally jostled I had had it. Maggie and I waved the white flag of defeat and headed to . . . where else? . . . the Nordstrom café for a nice, quiet lunch among the placid Nordstrom shoppers.
I got a white blouse out of the deal, and Maggie got a new pair of jeans. Not a single Christmas gift was bought on Black Friday. My brain was too addled to even think about buying gifts for anyone.
My older two? I think they’re still somewhere in the mall, probably being harassed by evil old women with really big purses. We got separated at the beginning of the day, and didn’t get all caught up until the end.
So much for girly bonding time.
Black Friday? Please don’t ever mention those two words in the same sentence to me. I really don’t know what I was thinking, venturing out into that scene, but one thing I do know, I won’t be in a hurry to do THAT again.
Until maybe next year.