There are few words one can use to describe the feelings associated with Black Friday, the most loathsome of retail events. Going to work at 5:30 this morning was like something from a nightmare - I resentfully woke up after 3 hours of sleep and cursed Brian's name (that ugly bastard) for not hiring me at stupid Matthews Hall. I got dressed and bundled up, got into the car, and ventured onto the dark empty streets of south Denton. I wanted to avoid 288 just in case, so I took my usual Teasley/Shady Oaks route. There were people standing around in front of Best Buy since it had already opened, and a few people in front of Michaels' closed doors. I still consider that a victory.* I managed to get across the street and find a parking space in the middle of the lot, and walked toward the doors, cursing and mocking the people stupid enough to be out in the freezing weather at 5:43 am to partake of ritualistic consumerism. People were lined up outside from the front (right-most door) all the way around the side of the building. I got in the door with my Target card, and I clocked in and was put on a register - number thirteen. The whole time, the world didn't really look quite right. Everything was dark when I pulled in and got to work, and I could never really believe the time because I couldn't see the sun during the day. The real horror started, though, when they finally let the people into the store. A flood started that lasted for about twenty minutes, people running into the store and grabbing the carts lined up at the ready. There were twenty-four big-screen HDTVs, most of which were pounced upon in the first ten minutes. The store felt more full than usual, since there were so many more items stocked on the shelves and distributed throughout. The store was like a sandy beach, with the precise number of grains representing the well-stocked store with its many employees, but it was as if someone had dropped a ham sandwich upon it. Like ants, the people spread out throughout the store, consuming and consuming like their lives depended on it. Is it really that necessary to have stuff? The only thing I would actually have bought was the super-cute LoZ DS Lite, which was gold with a little triforce on the front and came with the newest game. Obviously, I don't even have enough to make rent this month, so super-cute DSes are out of the question, especially since I already have a DS that works. I did buy four pairs of gloves for under two dollars, one set for myself and one for Cat, since they match our Plusle and Minun outfits. I wanted to buy these really nice 1000 thread count sheets (20 dollars each) for my mom, but then realized that I'd want some too. Again, I don't have that kind of money.
I managed to score two meals - an enormous cheese danish for breakfast, and a roast beef sub, chips and a soda for lunch. I also helped myself to the large tub of holiday candies, filling my pockets so I could try every flavour (cherry cordial kisses?!) As I stood at my register helping customers, I was perky and awake, but as soon as I stepped three feet away from my register I yawned and became lethargic and bordering on delusional. I wanted nothing more than the power to transform - into a cat and sleep in the hanger box underneath my register. After lunch I felt better, but the whole day mashed together in a series of unrelated events. Sleep this morning blended with work blended with breaks blended with MEKsgiving blended with failed karaoke attempt blended with headlight adventures. The last four days or so have been an incoherent blur, probably caused by too little sleep. No amount of sleep seems to be enough, I could seriously sleep for days and not be bothered.
*A few weeks after I quit, I ran into one of my old coworkers at Target. He told me that the day before was his last day, and the day before that he told Vicky (the unpleasant manager) that the next would be his last day. Apparently two other people had just stopped showing up, and one other person quit during a shift, leaving Vicky to close by herself. HA HA! Fuck you, Michaels.
I managed to score two meals - an enormous cheese danish for breakfast, and a roast beef sub, chips and a soda for lunch. I also helped myself to the large tub of holiday candies, filling my pockets so I could try every flavour (cherry cordial kisses?!) As I stood at my register helping customers, I was perky and awake, but as soon as I stepped three feet away from my register I yawned and became lethargic and bordering on delusional. I wanted nothing more than the power to transform - into a cat and sleep in the hanger box underneath my register. After lunch I felt better, but the whole day mashed together in a series of unrelated events. Sleep this morning blended with work blended with breaks blended with MEKsgiving blended with failed karaoke attempt blended with headlight adventures. The last four days or so have been an incoherent blur, probably caused by too little sleep. No amount of sleep seems to be enough, I could seriously sleep for days and not be bothered.
*A few weeks after I quit, I ran into one of my old coworkers at Target. He told me that the day before was his last day, and the day before that he told Vicky (the unpleasant manager) that the next would be his last day. Apparently two other people had just stopped showing up, and one other person quit during a shift, leaving Vicky to close by herself. HA HA! Fuck you, Michaels.
