Bob Miller
How do you approach Black Friday?
I’ve seen TV videos of shoppers elbowing and shoving others out of the way to get to that last Cabbage Patch doll or that last Samsung TV bigger than a barn door that is on sale for less than what you can pay for a Costco hot dog.
I doubt that I will ever barge into a store as soon as it opens its doors and start running for something that I probably don’t need anyway. And if I ever do, I will be sure to wear a football helmet and shoulder and elbow pads.
So you see, I’m not much of a shopper for bargains. Therefore, I was never too excited about the five pound Thanksgiving morning Fresno Bee that used to be delivered at the top of my driveway. I gave the advertisements to my son-in-law, who thinks Black Friday shopping is a competitive sport to be enjoyed with his brother.
Personally, I think any day of the week that starts with the word “black” should be spent in bed or in a chair reading a book. If you can’t find a store that still sells books, you might want to check one out of your local library. And then, of course, there is always Amazon, which I’m sure has a book sale on Cyber Monday.
Yet, several years ago there I was on the biggest shopping day of the year burning a gallon of gas as I scanned the mall parking lot for empty spaces or back up lights from vehicles. My wife was my copilot who guided me away from lurching pedestrians and idling SUVs that hunkered down waiting for the elusive space to open up.
Most of the shoppers seemed content to spend 10 extra minutes looking for that ideal, close to the building spot rather than saving time and gasoline money by walking a half mile from the ones that are always vacant — except, of course, on Black Friday.
Sharon eventually suggested that we try the upper levels of the parking garage at the Visalia Mall, which is 95 some miles from our hometown. (Why we decided to do our shopping there instead of some place more sanely close to home is the topic for another story.)
And the truth of the matter is that I was looking for only one purchase — a glass angel ornament for our Christmas tree. (Why I desperately needed a glass angel ornament is the topic . . . well you know. But my brother, Doug, suggested I explain that or else the readers of my column may think I’m really strange. I told him, “Too late for that!” But here’s the short version. I had written a children’s Christmas story about ornaments that talk, and I needed to take photos of the ornaments.
But I had broken the glass angel, who happened to be one of the main characters in the story. I decided buying another angel was better than rewriting my story. There, Doug! Does that make you happy? Although I don’t think telling my angel story raises my normality quotient.)
The Visalia Mall has some 62 shops, maybe more counting little boutique kiosks that open up for the holidays. First, I checked some smaller specialty stores.
Not only did the three we looked into have nary a single glass angel figurine, they had few angels of any kind, period. (My wife thought it odd that angel ornaments for a Christmas tree would not be a hot commodity.)
After a quick stop at the Subway in the food court to scarf down a sandwich as we watched shoppers dodge the kiddy train, Sharon suggested we try JC Penney. I was blown away by the half acre of space devoted to Christmas decorations right inside the door. Alas, there were no glass angel figurines, but I could have filled up a shopping cart with Santa Claus ornaments.
Our last hope was Macy’s, where curiously enough, the Christmas section was tucked away in a corner in the back on the second floor. There were no glass angel ornaments!
However, I did find porcelain angels that I thought might work for my purpose. I looked at the price on one: $14. Yikes! My wife pointed out the sign — “All Christmas ornaments 60 percent off.” After all, this was Black Friday.
I was so giddy with my good fortune that I bought two.
I headed for the customer care counter whistling “Happy Days Are Here Again,” but I quickly stopped whistling. The checkout line snaked its way through a maze of stands and webbing that would have done a ride at Disneyland proud.
And each customer ahead of me had a full cart with a bundle of merchandise that reminded me of some homeless person that had wandered into Macy’s by mistake. And here I was loaded down with two porcelain angels.
I thought to myself, “This is exactly why I don’t go shopping on Black Friday!” (Well, that and trying to find a parking space.)
While I was in line, I got a little nervous when my wife wandered off through the aisles with enticing signs, “Mega Juicer Blender — regularly $299-$49.99 Black Friday Only” and the “BellaGood Electric Skillet — 50 percent off, $28.98, (after $12 mail-in rebate.)”
Well, you understand why I was nervous. But she came back to me 15 minutes later empty handed when I was next in line. A friendly customer care person rang up my purchase. I handed her a $20 bill.
My wife and I may have set a world record for Black Friday shopping — longest distance traveled to spend less than $20. I’m telling you, if the U.S. and Chinese economies depended on me, they would collapse in less than a month.
Bob Miller is a 48 -year resident of the mountain area and a former English teacher, football/baseball coach at Yosemite High School. He keeps his brain sharp as a Q-tip by substitute teaching at the overly ripe age of 78. He enjoys traveling and taking short hikes with his wife and grandkids. And reading such books as “The Cat in the Hat” and Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods.” He thinks what the world could use in these crazy times is a good laugh. He can be reached at writerbob46@gmail.com.
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