Now, normally I'm not one to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving. In fact, usually I'm such a wreck about getting ready for the holidays, I've finished my shopping by the end of October and don't even need to get near the mall for the last two months of the year. (Except, of course, for my trips to Forever 21 and The Great American Cookie Company, but that's personal and not really "gift-related.")
But, last year, I couldn't sleep and thought that I might as well see what it's like to be in a department store at 7:00 a.m. Unfortunately, being with the rabid bargain-hunting crowd taught me two things:
1. Something about being in the presence of a "doorbuster" completely destroys my rational sensibilities. I was loaded up with seven $12.00 digital cameras (as if a $12.00 digital camera could be any good) before I realized that just because everyone else was grabbing at the boxes under the "special sale" sign didn't mean I had to, too.
2. I should not be unleashed on the world in a situation that involves both early mornings and slashed prices. After the doorbuster incident, I found myself at Old Navy in search of discounted performance fleece. I had picked up two jackets that I thought were ten dollars a piece and proceeded to the check-out line.
Now, being the day after Thanksgiving, the line at Old Navy lasted for 45 minutes, but I was willing to wait it out because of the cheap jackets. (I'd also like to add that I don't think waiting in the line was nearly as bad as the "waiting entertainment" dreamed up by overly-peppy retail gurus. I think it's fair to say that I never want to play "purse and pocket raffle." I don't care who has tweezers in their purse. And, having to watch the "sudden death" as to who would win the holiday motif stickers when both middle-aged woman A and middle aged woman B had Q-tips in their purses nearly made me impale myself on a coat hanger.)
When I finally got to the register, the salesperson rang up my items and informed me that I owed $27.80. Unfortunately for all involved, this is when I became incensed with rage. After all, I was there at that ridiculous hour for $10 performance fleece and nothing else. So, that's what I told the sales lady.
"Well," she said, "you pulled out different jackets. One is $10. The other is $15."
Staring at what I considered to be two identical jackets, I was baffled. "But," I countered, "I got both of these off the rack over there that has the huge sign saying '$10" above it."
"OK," she said, "but they're different."
"How are they different?"
"This one has a tab on the zipper, and this one doesn't."
Of course, I thought to myself -- I see why a zipper tab costs $5.
"Fine, then," I said, "I'll take that one and not the other." I then pointed to the one that she just told me was the cheaper jacket."
"Your new total is $16.95."
"But, you just told me the jacket with the tab was the more expensive one. That's why I told you to put that one back."
"This one is the more expensive one. That's why it ran up as costing more." (And she said it as if I was too stupid to understand this basic leap of faith.)
"But, you just told me that wasn't the more expensive one."
"The scanner doesn't lie."
So, by now, I was no longer arguing about $5. At this point, I was angry about misplaced tags, misleading signs, false advertising, UPC scanners, incompetent salespeople, consumerism, corporate America, overly-commercialized holidays, the injustices of the purse raffle game, and the fact that life just isn't fair.
The morning ended when I practically threw the fleece back at the check-out woman and informed her that I was having none of this and never wanted to shop at Old Navy again.
At least I can admit that I think I overreacted. Despite the fact that I can be somewhat dramatic at times, I usually save my more grandiose antics for boyfriends and my siblings. Really, I rarely pitch fits in stores or at restaurants. And, actually having a hissy fit over performance fleece taught me that I just shouldn't shop with the masses. There is more peace in the world when I stay home on Black Friday and use the Internet for absolutely necessary last-minute purchases.
