How I Do Black Friday- Part 1

Black Friday Craziness

As I look over to see my 100 year old chihuahua shitting tiny little dollops of poo in 5 different places, I try to block it with the anticipation of what Friday is. Let’s cut to the chase, I fucking love Black Friday. If someone came to me and said I had a choice of keeping Valentine’s Day, Easter and Thanksgiving or removing all 3 and keeping Black Friday; well good people, I think you know what I’me going to pick as I hate eggs, PDA and cooking.

“But Hot Mess, Black Friday isn’t a holiday.”

Umm, yeah it is and don’t try to tell me any differently.

To get to Black Friday I must get through Thanksgiving. To be honest, I really don’t like Thanksgiving, in fact, I really don’t like turkey either. Sure Thanksgiving is an excellent time to come together with family but I’m not down with what typically happens in 75% of households. Suddenly we are teleported back to 1955….


Laying on couch napping.


Sticking their hand in the ass (oh sorry, cavity) of the bird, trying to find that stupid little bag of turkey’s organs. It’s beyond disgusting yet you have to because of that 115 year old relative that “likes the liver”. I mean what is this? Ancient Egypt? Why don’t we just wrangle up 6 monkeys and eat their brains?


Sitting on couch watching football. No reservation that their spouse is actually doing a huge chore on a holiday. I mean, all the women folk are in the kitchen right? This is what dads always get to do.


First of all, on behalf of every woman out there who truly does like to cook- you don’t know what you are talking about and I think you are lying. While the men are screaming like knuckledraggers at the t.v., you are certain you will loose a finger to frostbite from said turkey because the fucking thing still hasn’t thawed!

But I digress. On Thursday morning around 6:30 a.m., I grab the closest pair of non see-through pajama bottoms, frantically scrape the ice off my car window (cursing Ohio) then hull ass to Speedway. Once in Speedway, internally I laugh maniacally in front of the pallet of Columbus Dispatch papers. I pick up a stack of 4, yes 4 papers, telling myself the savings alone will more than pay off the cost.

Once home, I stack all 4 on top of each other then just stare at them for a few minutes. It’s like I’m a hunter, admiring my trapping skills, pleased with my bounty. While not taking my gaze off the stack, I pull open the junk drawer and feel around till I find a black sharpie. I select the paper that looks most intact and carefully write the following at the top: HOT MESS’S COPY

Yes, I piss around my Black Friday paper. I want family members to know this is my copy and I have thoughtfully purchased 3 other copies they should reference.

Once after dinner, my mother in law, sister in law and myself went back to the dining room table to do the traditional ad search. There was a World Market ad that I had reviewed, circled shit I would never buy and set in my reviewed pile.

“Can I see that?” My sister in law asked, jetting her chin in the ad’s direction.

“What?” I asked, knowing full-well what she was asking for.

“The World Market ad,” she responded, again pointing her head in it’s direction. I was pissed. This ad was surely in the other 3 newspapers I had brought, yet she wanted the one in my copy. Perhaps I could interest her in the Black & Decker ad or the AT&T one.

Trying not to look psycho while maintaining some sort of control on my intact copy, I responded, “ok but give it back!”

‘Really Hot Mess’, I thought later, ‘were you really going to go to World Market?’

World Market is just a bigger version of Pier 1. Great to browse but you know your not going to buy a damn thing in there. Let’s face it, you don’t need Russian nesting dolls or incense.

Well, that is all for now. I need to check out more ads because I’m thinking about doing something I’ve never done on Black Friday- going to the outlet malls. Do I dare? The only reason is my oldest now wants clothes for the first time for Christmas and the clothes unfortunately has to be either Nike or Under Armour. Given the fact that a pair of Nike Elite socks cost $18, I’m going to need every special offer out there.



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