Why I Suck at Black Friday

When the last bite of mashed potatoes is gone and those joyful carols take over the radio, everyone filled with the holiday spirit starts to get ready for the most festive day of the year: Black Friday. Unlike a cheery white Christmas that “kids from 1 to 92” can delight in, Black Friday is a day for thrill-seeking Americans only. Fortunately, even though my family doesn’t seem particularly fond of skydiving or bungee jumping, we do bravely venture into the unknown every year on that hallowed day. Unfortunately, I totally suck at Black Friday.

While most Black Friday shoppers sacrifice sleep for those 5 am doorbuster sales, I thoroughly enjoy my 11 hour long tryptophan-induced coma. I don’t care if that 400 inch plasma TV is only $6 if bought before 5:01 am. I’ll be damned if I won’t let my pumpkin pie digest past sunrise. So, I choose to forego any form of sleep deprivation and wake up at 10:30 am to spend a leisurely morning eating leftover cookies for breakfast with a cup of hot tea.

Never call me the Coupon Queen, because I can’t live up to those high expectations. I definitely read the Sunday paper, but only for the comics. I also can never find the scissors in my house, so I’m certainly not going to waste time clipping coupons out of the paper. Furthermore, if my mom gives me coupons to save for later in the week, I will never be able to find them in my purse once I get into the retail establishment. This wonderful trait of mine has caused some glorious conflict within my family, but what is the holiday season without some fighting?

I also never like the things on sale. Every year these stores keep getting a little more crafty to try to trick my frugal sensibilities. Whether they list absurd retail prices to convince you that 30% off is a deal or have some crazy buy 7 get 4 free policy, stores on Black Friday really make me question the value of risking my life in a mob just to get the deal. Luckily, it doesn’t matter for me because I always seem to like the things that aren’t on sale. Usually, I fall in love with the one pair of leggings that costs $30 more than the rest or the last violet jacket on the rack that is for some reason excluded from the 40% off coupon that I have. Anyways, I tend to be the sucker that’s lured into the store with hopes of saving some serious cash, but ends up in the red on Black Friday.

Finally, I am a liberal elitist who prides myself on periodically ranting about consumerism (and the horrors of materialism), so Black Friday makes me feel like the most unethical human being on the planet. I enjoy then forcing the rest of my family to feel guilty for pleasantly purchasing a few items on sale. If I don’t induce a few eyerolls with my philosophical rants and then continue buying things like a maniac, I’m not really doing Black Friday right.

In the end, Black Friday is like my 9th favorite day of the year. There is no other day when I can shamelessly shop with half of the country while the other half not-so-silently judges me. Black Friday, please never change.

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