One of them anyway. It was conducted in the late hours of Thanksgiving Day. A day when per tradition you are supposed to stick your fingers through those belonging to your loved ones and sit around a table or fire or whatever tableau suits your style and give thanks. Thanks to the provider, purveyor, worker or whatever or whoever you feel thankful for.
Instead the new America has converted their age old pastime into a new game. Shop till you drop or are dropped and be thankful for it. The latter in the form of someone trouncing you on their way to find the latest sale item in a grossly crowded superstore that can offer anything from an underwear to a computer to a lawnmower and grub killer.
As if shopping was an entirely new discovery for mankind thousands descend on variety of big box retailers (as they are affectionately known) across the big nation as early as 6 pm (so when did we close again?) local time, like honey bees coming to mate during peak season. From police presence at the parking lots to keep order to the upcoming melee (not on pay per view) at the doors there is security as tight as a presidential visit.
Then the clock chimes 6 or 8 or whatever the magic number is that day and the lines swarm in - to pillage and plunder the crockpots (yes we need more) to large sized suitcases where you could hide a child or two if needed, to the fleece garments that strictly speaking fleece the idiot customers without their knowing of hard earned cash, to massively discounted jewelry items you would think were made of plastic (they are but look like gold).
This experiment to me anyway was confirmation that all is well in the world and there are no debt crises or unemployment or colored days just colored eyes - simply black eyes (from all that trouncing) or red eyes (from staying up for 48 hours walking the malls) and a Suburban full of next decades supplies - that will undoubtedly end up in the garage since we need space to put Johnny somewhere inside.
Instead the new America has converted their age old pastime into a new game. Shop till you drop or are dropped and be thankful for it. The latter in the form of someone trouncing you on their way to find the latest sale item in a grossly crowded superstore that can offer anything from an underwear to a computer to a lawnmower and grub killer.
As if shopping was an entirely new discovery for mankind thousands descend on variety of big box retailers (as they are affectionately known) across the big nation as early as 6 pm (so when did we close again?) local time, like honey bees coming to mate during peak season. From police presence at the parking lots to keep order to the upcoming melee (not on pay per view) at the doors there is security as tight as a presidential visit.
Then the clock chimes 6 or 8 or whatever the magic number is that day and the lines swarm in - to pillage and plunder the crockpots (yes we need more) to large sized suitcases where you could hide a child or two if needed, to the fleece garments that strictly speaking fleece the idiot customers without their knowing of hard earned cash, to massively discounted jewelry items you would think were made of plastic (they are but look like gold).
This experiment to me anyway was confirmation that all is well in the world and there are no debt crises or unemployment or colored days just colored eyes - simply black eyes (from all that trouncing) or red eyes (from staying up for 48 hours walking the malls) and a Suburban full of next decades supplies - that will undoubtedly end up in the garage since we need space to put Johnny somewhere inside.
Comments
Post a Comment