When Black Friday rolls around, the same thought always crosses my mind: do we really hate our families this much? On the day after Thanksgiving we could be sitting in our pajamas, having a wholesome breakfast of leftover pumpkin pie and lukewarm mini-quiches. But no. Millions of Americans will brave parking lot traffic jams and stand in long lines with turkied-up grumpies, ready to elbow anyone who stands in the way of their deeply discounted, 60-inch flat screen.
Lots of people love Black Friday, but surely, there’s got to be a better way to stock up for the holidays. Maybe I just don’t love America enough, but nothing about this spectacle appeals to me. For starters, I hate mornings and I love pajamas. And I have no interest in being tased by a security guard or receiving a shiner from the overzealous shopper coming up fast on my left flank.