I’ve slacked big time. It’s 11:22 and I’ve been home for hours. What is wrong with me? It’s fuckin’ Black Friday and I’m typing this up. I should be elbowing a Somalian woman for a video game right now at Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart, OMG! I didn’t even go to Wal-Mart.
My Black Friday began around 9 a.m. when I went to the gas station, prepared to buy 4 Black Friday papers. When I saw the price, I about passed out. $5, WTF! I have never paid more than $2.50. Thanks to this, I only bought 3 papers and my husband’s requested beef jerky because apparently a balanced breakfast includes 18″ of cured meat. Here is a pic of how I laid out each paper for my 2 sons and myself this morning:
After the little meal known as Thanksgiving, my 12-year-old and I began shopping at 6 PM. We drove past Best Buy and people were lined up all around the building. I’ve never shopped at Best Buy as people are legit crazy. They set up tents and camp out and for what? A 60″ tv? I don’t think so.
P and I decided to start at Dick’s Sporting Goods. Correction, P decided we would start at Dick’s. P shopped in the Adidas area while I looked for my youngest in the kids section. When I returned to P, he presented the following pant to me:
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” I proclaimed.
“Why?” P protested.
“Because it’s camouflage. You would be made fun of and those pants are ugly.” I obviously held nothing back but it was go time and I needed to protect P from hideous fashion choices. And that was that. He wasn’t getting those f’ing ugly pants.
I’m home now. I’m fuckin’ lame. I couldn’t even handle going to Wal-Mart. I decided to shop online. So I have Younger on the tv. If you haven’t seen it, it’s about a 40-something who pretends she is a 20-something just to land a job. I’d like to think I could be mistaken for a 20-something until an ass hole at the grocery store doesn’t ask for my id when purchasing wine. Instead, he types in 1/1/1972 to allow for my alcohol purchase to go through.
As I’m watching the show, my son comes down announcing “fast news”. Blake Wynn, a YouTuber is about to “drop” a ton of merchandise at midnight, at a discounted price.
“Dear fuckin’ God, would you just go to bed?’ I thought.
He shows me this dude who is happily going through his merchandise on his back patio, throwing it around like a cocaine user, twitching.
Because God loves me, there wasn’t enough merchandise on Mr. Wynn’s site for my son to buy and we were done. Thank the baby Jesus.
So here I am, drinking God awful Chardonnay because I’ve run out of Cabernet. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.