First of all, let me say that I am deeply sorry that you had to read about my adventures in B.M. land. But I'm a human being. Does not a human feel? Does not a human poo?
So this morning I went to WalMart for some Frizz-Ease and a flat iron for my 'do. Well, I'd forgotten that it was Black Friday (mostly because every Friday is "black Friday" for me. Or is it Negro Friday? I dunno). Anyway, I was in the hair serum aisle when I saw a woman with a cart loaded down with overpriced plastic madness. She was a complete stranger, but your favorite social cripple had to ask the pointed question: "I hope there's something for you in there". She told me that there was, in fact, nothing in the cart for her and that she was halfway down her daughter's list (which included Hannah Montana tickets and a hamster). We engaged in a lovely convo about how the going price for H.M. concert tickets is nearing the realm of one vital organ per ticket and the long lines before parting ways. The woman was a saint.
People watching on Black Friday is wonderful. I'm going back out next year, too. I love the hustle, the bustle, the desperation on faces, the ridiculous lines, the calculated product shortages, the sheer lunacy of it all. As an amazingly anticlimactic postscript, I did eventually get my flat iron and Friz-Ease and now my hair is mad shiny. Ka-chow!
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