Black Friday, once again, went on without me. My idea of a good shopping day is a spare 20 dollar bill and a overly large thrift shop. I am, therefore, not one of the souls in line in front of the Circuit City, at 4 in the morning. For one thing, it's about 19 degrees above zero at 4 in the morning, here in The Frozen North (Motto: Why Get Warm When You Are Just Gonna Get Cold Again?).
But earlier, in my "I want to make everybody happy" days, I got talked into two Black Fridays with friends. I can still hear those women saying, "Oh, come on! It'll be fun."
The first Black Friday was at a big mall, and my shopping companion mainly wanted to eat her way through the food court. At some point, they just about ran out of food, and I got to go home.
The second Black Friday was at an even larger mall, and it became apparent that my shopping companion just wanted to window shop. And the logical, little nerdy Girl Scout part of me blurted out, "But if you aren't going to buy anything, why can't we just go home?" Then I was in for it.
I do like to shop. I just don't consider it a competitive sport.
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