Black Friday

I saw Elvis this morning. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't a hallucination, even though I clearly saw him walking around with Marilyn Monroe, a manager, and security at the Four Seasons Mall in Greensboro at 3:15 am, because I saw them again around 4:30 am talking to a news crew while a crappy band was warbling some sort of karaoke mess throughout the entire mall. This I know to be true because I could never dream something so hideous, and I was, after all, for the first time in two years, operating on caffeine. Yes, that's right. A grande loaded coffee from Starbucks kept me going until 10 am when I promptly crashed.

But I would be cheating you of glorious details of the goings on of the madding crowd in the wee hours of the morning on Black Friday if I left my story there. Oh yes, I have seen many things today of how people operate in fervent hopes of finding the bargain of a lifetime. But let me step back a moment to set the mood.

At 2:30 am, I was rudely awakened out of a deep sleep by my phone alarm. I seriously considered blowing off work, but, needing the hours, I managed to stumble to the shower, which, under normal circumstances, is enough to set me in the right direction for the day. Not so. I honestly can't tell you how I made it to Greensboro this morning because my eyes were so incredibly glazed and my mind wasn't even functioning. I do remember setting my cruise control at just below speed limit and still managed to make it to the mall in 20 minutes. I parked right outside the closest entrance to my store in the front row and walked around to an entrance that was actually open. Let me tell you, I was the first one out mid-morning!

As I made it into the mall, slightly jarred by the brisk night air, I was immediately swarmed by shoppers in their pajamas who had opened the mall at 1 am for door busters and such. When I got closer to the three-floor open atrium in the center of the mall, I heard a very good live rendition of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On," which was so surprising that I laughed out loud to myself; I was expecting Christmas music or something! I promptly made the decision that this might be the day to actually try caffeine since I had to meet the public. Granted, I'm used to all-nighters, but I never had to smile at anyone while I was up writing a paper last-minute. So I took my place in line behind the other ten people who needed fuel for the shopping madness.

Later, sufficiently leaded and ready to go, I headed upstairs to wait for a manager to open up the store. On the way, I ran into Lucille Ball and some man who looked like a mixture of Little Richard, Sammy Davis, Jr., and Rick James. I can't really be sure who he was supposed to be, but they were shopping like the rest of the nutters at 4 am. As I was almost to my store, I passed a group of men, one of whom came up to me and said something quite obscene and offensive, to which a moment later I recollected that I should've slapped the crap out of him for daring to speak to me like that. But then I quickly remembered that on Tuesday of this week, there was a shooting in the mall parking lot and thought better of provoking strangers, especially at very odd hours of the day. I let it go and walked on without giving him a second glance.

I had a few moments to spare before the manager arrived, so I decided to go to the banister overlooking the atrium to observe the crowds from above and listen to another band play Weezer's "Island in the Sun," complete with "yupyups." Again, I'm not sure if this was a product of the caffeine, but as I leaned on the railing, I felt the entire wall shake, like I lived in an apartment under the "El" train in Chicago and little bits of ceiling plaster start falling down as the 3:42 express makes its way home. I looked around to find the source of this and thought, perhaps, that it was related to the elevators going up and down. I don't think this is the case because the wall continued to oscillate when the elevators were not being used. I'm still confused about that one, but I guess I'll have to figure it out later when I'm more lucid.

I finally made it into the store when the third-in-command arrived with the key. The general manager was so gracious to herself and scheduled an 8 am arrival, leaving the peons to do the dirty work at 4. The assistant manager's first words were, "I'm in a foul mood," soon followed by, "No offense, but I'm so hungry I want to punch your head." I thought the morning looked quite promising, but I convinced him to let me go upstairs to the food court and get him dinner since he foolishly had not eaten since 1 pm the previous day. Moron. After he got some food in his belly, he became more human and genial, although slightly punch-drunk, since he did not even go to bed last night, and the morning really did become more promising. We started our morning routine before opening the doors to the public at 5 am, during which we found a box of turkey stock that had been opened and left out since Wednesday. Yikes. The entire store, from the front to the stock room, smelled like feet, and no amount of Williams-Sonoma brand room spray could cover it up.

To tell the truth, the rest of the morning was sort of a blur. We weren't too terribly busy because the closest department store to us didn't open until 7 am, so we hardly got any traffic. Our store also didn't participate in any mega sales; in fact, the only things on sale are Thanksgiving-specific food items. But it's amazing how much people will spend on over-priced kitchen gadgetry in the wee hours of the morning, simply because they want to get their Christmas shopping completed on Black Friday. To each his own, I suppose. I only had one notable customer this morning, who dropped a thousand bucks on various food items and appliances for gifts and to stock up for a party she is hosting. This wonderful lady came in with 30 minutes left on my shift and had several associates busy the whole time hunting down cases of cider and mulling spices, cinnamon sticks, and slow-cookers and gift-wrapping a few random items. When the order was completed, she asked if we could accompany her to her car, helping with her packages. Normally we are glad to assist by taking a cart of packages to a covered drive-through outside of one particular mall entrance that is closely guarded by security. However, she wanted us to follow her all over the parking lot outside a completely different entrance and go directly to her car, which, in light of the recent shooting, is very bad policy, and one which we do not endorse at all. We politely asked her to bring her car around to the drive-through, and when she refused to give up her parking space, kindly offered to hold her packages in our over-crowded stock room until she was ready to come back later in the day and leave the mall for good. There was no negotiating with this woman. She decided on the spot to return all her purchased items and took down the name of the snarky assistant manager. Finally, the manager gave in, quite rudely, I might add, and allowed one associate to take the cart to the woman's car because she didn't want to lose a $1,000 sale.

With a few minutes left on my shift, I was asked to gift-wrap the one item I asked not to gift-wrap - a KitchenAid stand mixer - for a store display. Those boxes are quite heavy and cumbersome, and because of the width of our wrapping paper, we have to ghetto-wrap it and tape a spare piece of paper on either end. Whatever. I finished the job, handed the package to the person setting up the display, and clocked out. I was home free and made it safely back to Burlington where Sonic did not let me down with brunch, nor did my bed let me down with a nap. And here you find me, more subdued, reflecting on the strange events of this very odd morning. I don't know if I'll ever participate in another Black Friday, but if I do, I think I'll be adequately prepared for the madness.