Black Friday

In the days of our youth we could do our Christmas Shopping in downtown Plymouth.  This is not to say a trip to Boston wasn’t a highlight of the Christmas season, but we really didn’t need to go to Filene’s or Jordan Marsh because there was a wonderful selection of merchandise set out on Main Street.  The prices were firm, at least until the January sales.  Looking back I realize how nice that was.

 Black Friday is nearly upon us, and it’s not a comforting thought.  Thanksgiving is a busy day at our house. If we’re satisfied that the food was tasty, everyone had a good time, the dishes are washed, and the leftovers stored, we fall into bed contented and ready for a rest.  We’re not likely to haul out at two in the morning to get a deal on a Disney princess. 

But if I pay more than someone else, I’ll feel like I’ve been taken.  If they can sell something at a discount in the middle of the night, why can’t they sell it to me for the same price at a civilized hour? I consider Christmas shopping a necessary evil.  The important thing is to choose a gift that will bring delight.  That’s hard enough without worrying that later on the store will hold a one-day sale and offer the same item to someone else for 30% off.  

If they do I could find the sales slip, return the merchandise, and buy it back for the discount, but that would require a second trip to the store.  I could wait in line at the returns counter, and maybe – just maybe – there wouldn’t be a technicality that made the whole rigmarole a waste of time.

I plan to pass up the Black Friday door- busters.  I don’t want to turn up in a news item about the fogy who got trampled because he stopped to look at cookware in an aisle that led to the electronics counter.  I’ll consider that those bargain-crazed sprinters earned their discounts with the sweat of their brows.  The thought will help assuage my guilt for having paid too much.