Categories: uncategorized
Date: 25 November 2005 21:45:35
This morning was the first time I've bothered going out to the pre-dawn Day After Thanksgiving sales. There was a basic sewing machine -- pretty much the same simple Brother brand machine I've already got, updated a bit, under $60. Had to have it! Spouse and Daughter came along.
So, we got out to the Super Wal-Mart about 4:45 a.m., the sale starting at 5. People had obviously been waiting for hours, held away from the more coveted sale items by flourescent tape stretched between displays. The biggest draw was undoubtedly the $300 computer advertised in the sale paper, along with some fancy video game machines I know nothing about.
It was like the crowd at the beginning of the Boston Marathon. It was like eager racehorses in their boxes at the starting gate. People communicated via radio and cell phone, waving and calling to distant companions, discussing strategies and where they were, awaiting the stroke of 5 a.m. The store "rent-a-cop" walked the line, sternly admonishing the customers against fighting. I'm serious, he threatened grandmas after vacuum cleaners, and parents pushing little kids in carts, with arrest if they got out of hand.
I was in the little boys' clothing area near the milk and beer. (Heh, that's a picture, isn't it? The bulk of the special sale items were palleted and lined up in the "action alley" aisle between the grocery and department store halves of the facility. Thus, I was between Milk, Beer and Little Boys' Underwear.)
Hubby was over there somewhere around the canned beans. Heaven only knows where daughter had gone to.
Then the magic hour arrived! The word was given! The crowd surged forward, breaking the plastic tape at the beginning of their race.
It wasn't too bad, really. No one was crushed. None fell and got stomped to death.
Thick wriggling crowds surrounded the most popular items, of course. I felt like a salmon swimming upstream. Or maybe a sperm cell trying to convince an egg that I Am The One For Her. And I didn't even want one of the wildly popular items, I just wanted a simple sewing machine!
It worked out. I saw Spouse off in the distance, triumphant, with my sewing machine up on his shoulder, so I relaxed and waited for a path to clear, pressed not uncomfortably against a freezer display of waffles. The crowd was fascinating.
After securing their DVD player or whatever they needed, several fellows stationed themselves up on the pallets and tossed items to folks crowded 'round who called out what they wanted. It was like a dance, me rhythmically ducking as VCRs flew over my head. It was like a Mardi Gras parade. "Throw me somethin', Mister!" Thank God we were packed too tightly for anyone to get any bright ideas about pulling up her shirt to get one of those radio-controlled monster trucks...
Spouse said, where he was standing, having found and stuck near the sewing machines, he was one of several men. Only one lonely little old lady was after a sewing machine for herself. All the others had stayed home and sent their sons and husbands! I guess those crafty sewing ladies are accustomed to crazy sale mobs; they knew not to wade in by themselves.
When the whistle blew, the closest man grabbed a sewing machine and tucked it into the lady's cart, sending her on her way. Then the guys got down to business, each picking up his wife's/mother's/sister's/lover's machine, divvying up the mammoth carcass you might say. Then they all stalked off, trophies in hand, masters of the hunt.
A few moments later, in the clear checkout lane that miraculously opened up for me as soon as I appeared, my daughter handed me the machine, complaining of its weight.
Of course I was simply forced to reply, as I wrapped an arm around the box, "It ain't heavy. It's my Brother!"