I’m going to go out on a limb here and use a word that almost always makes me shiver with disgust, but for purposes of this statement, I think it fits: sales make me moist.
The word moist, however, makes me sort of want to die, but that is neither here nor there.
But sales, man, SALES.
I’ve gotten back into coupon clipping, thanks to reading something about it on my friend TJ’s blog after a stint away from it because that does take a little more brain power than blearily stumbling to the store and throwing things into a cart requires. But I’ve also realized that holy shit, there’s a whole THING behind that and wow, I’m not THAT good or devoted (but please, pepper me with your tips, o! Internet my Internet).
Couponing, I think it’s called, seems sort of like a sport and I get that.
Sales, man, that’s where I get off.
Unless, of course, it’s the Black Friday sales, where you’ll find me cowering at my house, as far away from the stores as I humanly can be. Tonight, I’ll venture out to Target, My Home Away From Home and see if I can pick through what is left of the carnage left in the wake of this morning’s mayhem and destruction. I’ll smile knowingly at the glassy-eyed employees and pat them on the back if they don’t flinch when I get too close, and I’ll whisper, “I was a waitress, I GET IT.”
Because I do. Sort of.
I know that a lot of people turn it into a game, a hunt, carefully choosing their morning path, gathering up sleeping bags and going out the night before to camp out in front of the store so as to be the first in line for that $100 flat screen television. I’m sure that battle lines are drawn and should anyone dare cut in line or attempt to push ahead, there would be brawls and blows to the face.
But I wouldn’t know about that because my dimply butt was fast asleep in bed, dreaming of cheesecake and turkey and shopping the Black Friday deals online. I’ve never been out to a Black Friday sale in the wee hours of the morning and I have no intentions of ever doing so.
It’s not because I don’t like sales or because I don’t like competition, because, Internet, you know me and I like both. But I can see myself conforming to mob mentality and fighting some bearded 50-year old woman for a pair of 0.00000001 carat diamond earrings set in lead just because everyone else wanted them.
Or maybe getting into a heated fight between some bar owner over a set of naked lady bar glasses/popcorn maker not because I have ANY use for them, but because at $100, WHAT A STEAL! And what family with two boys and one small baby girl doesn’t need to see comically large nipples while they drink their juice every morning?
I could see myself filling up my truck with my junk, not thinking twice about plunking down for a Miley Cyrus Ultimate Dance Party Karaoke Revolution because I could, a cultured set of fresh water pearls even though I am not 97 years old, 483 DVD players for all of those DVD’s we’re switching over to Blu-Ray, and the Kate Gosslin cookbook JUST BECAUSE.
So it’s a good thing that my chubby self stays home and in bed, surfing for donkey porn and deals on Amazon.com. The Internet, it just got more beautiful than ever.
Except for that whole donkey porn thing.
Since I never worked retail, I’m living vicariously through you, The Internet. I’m in dire need of some Black Friday stories from the retail side of it or the shopping side of it.