I hate Black Friday. I hate the idea of it, the increasing extremes of it (sales starting at 3am?), the desperation of it. I hate the idea of frantically shopping, elbow-to-elbow with other frantic shoppers. I hate the implication that the holidays are all about presents. I don’t care that I could replace my aging desktop with a $198 laptop at Walmart… just…. no. My deep and abiding love of sales has to take a break each year on Black Friday, because I’d (of course) rather spend the day after Thanksgiving sleeping off a food hangover and sneaking slivers of leftover pumpkin pie than shopping.
This year, Aussie and I were visiting my family in Portland for Thanksgiving. My sister called Friday at 8:45am, saying she was going to stop by GAP (at a non-mall location just down the street, mind you) before yoga because everything was 50% off until 10am… did I need anything? Yes! I needed a black turtleneck! And underwear! And… screw it, I’m coming down!
I threw clothes over my unwashed body, tried to tame my unwashed hair (ew), yanked Aussie out the door, and drove like a crazy person to the GAP.
40 minutes later, I emerged with six sweaters, two pairs of leggings, and a scarf… and no gift receipt.
I swear, this is a one-time thing, partly because I know there will never again in my life be such an easy shopping trip, and partly because it would be FAR to embarrassing to have to admit again that I 1) shopped a Black Friday sale and 2) didn’t buy a single thing for someone else.
But throw me a bone, fellow bargain shoppers… 50% off? No sales tax? A plethora of much-needed winter basics for the taking? Too good to pass up!!