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| Every bit as insane as it looks... |
My Daffy Duck alarm clock goes off right at 3 a.m. -- the old quacker has never let me down!
A quick shower, a power breakfast of Fruit Loops and Twinkies, into my long johns and matching Toy Story shirt and pants.... and I'm OFF!!!
It's Black Friday and I shall not accept failure!!!!. I will get that awesome maroon cashmere sweater I've had my eye on for a marvelous 60% off or I will die trying!
The Khol's store that is my target -- code name Cashmere Central -- is located precisely 1.1 miles from my home in Las Vegas. Yes, I've calculated everything down to the last inch and nickel. This mission will be carried out with all the precision of Desert Storm. Okay, bad example. At least I will try to pillage without killing innocent civilians. But hey, if they get in the way, that's their problem, right? Sometimes the only good consumer is a dead consumer.
But what is this? There are many cars in the Cashmere Central parking lot! And I'm 12-and-one-half minutes early? The "target" does not open until 4 a.m. Who the hell leaked this?! I'll have their guts for kite strings!
I park the Invasion Vehicle and sprint to the store. There's a line! A long line!! A John Holmes-like endlessly long line! What in the name of George Washington's wooden teeth is going on here?
"What freakin time did YOU get here?" I ask the first person in the queue -- a bleached blond, massively implanted woman of 45. I believe they call them panthers. No, cougars. No, panthers.
"Wednesday."
"WEDNESDAY?!!"
"Yes, I camped out."
I spot her rolled up tent and rations. Egads, these people have taken the invasion to the point of science and insanity.
But I must get that awesome maroon cashmere sweater I've had my eye on for a marvelous 60% off!!
"Yes," I say, using my CIA-like lying and fibbing skills. "I remember seeing you now. When I was doing my rounds." I turn and look down the line, hold my hands up in the air with great officialness and address the shoppers. "Okay everyone. Security here. We'll be opening very soon and we ask that when we do, you proceed into the store in an orderly fashion."
I smile at the panther and step in front of her. "You can rest assured I'll clear a path for you," I tell her.
I am a geurrilla warrior. A covert combatant. A sneaky little subversive that any Bush president would be proud to call a close friend.
After what seems more like 10 minutes than 9 and a half, the doors finally open and I sprint inside like I'm Jesse Owens with a Roman candle stuck in my smuggling cavity.
I'm halfway to the sweaters when some old woman in corrective shoes flies past me, giving me a whack behind the ear as she goes. I'm temporarily stunned but undaunted. I dive to tackle her like in my rugby days but she's just too damn quick. Pinocchio poop! I get to my feet and make it to the sweater section.
Were my Fruit Loops drugged by the enemy??!! I can't believe my eyes! There are already five rabid females at the bin of cashmere sweaters. They're going nuts and clawing and biting and having what appears to be a good time. I'm guessing their husbands are obeying gender stereotypes and doing the same thing at Home Depot. Where are my gay friends when I need them?!
I insert myself into the action.
I see it!! The awesome maroon cashmere sweater I've had my eye on for a marvelous 60% off!!
Time slows down to a snail's pace. Every thing is in slow motion. This is my moment. This is what I've trained for, lo those lonely summer months.
I plunge for the sweater and pull it from the pile. But it's jammed. Jammed??
I look up. It's the damn panther and her ridiculously over-enhanced chest! She's pulling on the opposite sleeve!
"Let it go, ma'am," I say. "I've been asked to take this item to the main office."
But she's turned into a beast. "You're not with security!" she snarls. "Let go of the sweater or I'll weld your buns together!"
My dear friends and readers: This is the horror of war.
I yank on the sleeve. She heaves on the other. I can barely hold on. Her mammoth fake breasts give her a 20-pound advantage over me. Only in Las Vegas!
Suddenly I feel like God is on my shoulder. And He is saying: "You are a consumption son of My chosen country, El Estados Unidos, América. You must fight the good fight. You must kill and maim and get what you want. Crush the weak! Hack loogies onto those who would get in your way! You are My chosen Christian soldier!"
Well who the hell can argue with something like that?! Saying "God made me do it" is much better than having a note from your mother (my backup plan). I feel closer to the Bush's than ever.
I give one, final, mighty, Armageddon tug on the sweater and...
rrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppppp!!!!!
This bit did not happen in slow motion.
I fly backwards with all the flair and precision of a Scud missile and slam into a gaggle of shoppers killing each other for woolen socks.
I have a cashmere sleeve in hand. And the panther is coming towards me with napalm in her eyes.
I bolt to my feet and flee the scene. Read Sun Tzu's "On the Art of War." To paraphrase: "There's nothing wrong with retreat if an angry panther is about to shred your manhood."
There are shoppers everywhere. Hordes of them. I push, shove, trample and head butt my way through them with the panther in hot pursuit.
Finally, the front door!
The alarm goes off as I go through the security gate thingies. Just my luck to get the sleeve with the tag on it.
Now I have guards after me as well as the panther.
I'm halfway to the Invasion Vehicle when I hear the first shots fired. The bullets zing by my ears.
I leap into my all-terrain, camouflaged 1975 Buick and do a monster peel-out to the mad music of heavy fire.
I make it home in one piece, the cashmere sleeve still in my fist. I'm exhausted but unscathed. I'm guessing I'll get some kind of military citation in the mail for what I've been through.
I remove my clothes and don my "It's All About Me" jammies and sink back into my bed, pulling the covers over my head.
As I drift back into sleep I see panthers on the insides of my eyelids. Fanged and ferocious.
I put them out of my mind and instead imagine my cashmere sleeve, mounted and magnificent, hung on my living room wall.
I sleep the sleep of the warrior.
THE END
_________________
Yes, Black Friday. It's all a bit silly isn't it. :-)
Keep smiling,
Adrian Zupp
FOOTNOTE: Buy Nothing Day 2010; Location: Everywhere; Time: 12:00AM Friday, November 26. This is an annual event organized by Adbusters.
IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BLOG POST I invite you to take a look at A THANKSGIVING REALITY CHECK.
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