Brown Thursday

As the rush came around the corner, past the TVs and into Toys and Electronics, I saw the look in their eyes, the one that said, “I have not been having a good day. You will give me what I came for.” I just wanted to tell them that it wasn’t worth it, that they should have stayed home in a turkey-induced coma instead of fighting the traffic, and being herded in like sheep outside the store for several hours, just to get a cartful of beats by dre headphones (maybe they saw that A.J. Green commercial) or all 9 seasons of Supernatural. I wanted to let them know that I understand their decision, though, that I know what it’s like to want everything for our family members, for our children, and yes, also for ourselves, but doing the Brown Thursday dance just isn’t worth the hassle.

They all start to look the same, too, as the night goes on, those zombies with carts, going through the motions as if they know they’re supposed to but they aren’t quite sure why. They’re the same ones who live and die for deals, who give up their time for discounts, even if they neither want nor need whatever is being discounted. They’re the same ones who fought over Cabbage Patch dolls, who camped out for the Wii, and who bring huge binders full of coupons to the store every single time they shop. They want the stuff because it’s there, and because it’s cheap, and because everybody else is doing it.

I looked into their eyes on another Brown Thursday and I saw my own staring back at me.

Sam