All my life I’ve scoffed at the hoards of shoppers who bought into the hype of Day After Thanksgiving sales. I’ve always treated that Friday as a day to hide in my house, in my warm, flannel pajamas, and stuff myself with turkey sandwiches and pie. I don’t know what happened this year…
Something came over me. I think it happened when I was looking over the sale flyers in the paper on Thursday. The craft store flyers caught my eye. (When you spend your every spare moment making soaps, candles, and bath products, you also spend a lot of time in craft stores!) The coupons offering 20-25% off your entire order were just too much for me. I weighed my options. Sleep in? (I have a toddler, which means the latest “in” I’ll be able to sleep is 7am.) Spend all day shopping? (Nope, my husband and my bank account will never allow that.) I noticed that some of the stores were opening doors as early as 5am. (Whoa! Waaaay too early!) I narrowed my priorities down to 3 stores, and all three opened at 6am. That would still be considered sleeping in an extra hour, compared to my normal weekday wakeup time. But if all went well, I could easily hit all three stores and be back by the time my family is finishing breakfast. Good plan!
I was up even before my alarm went off. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, put in my contact lenses, and dressed comfortably. My husband mumbled something about being careful and not knocking over any little old ladies, and rolled over to go back to sleep. I slipped into my car at ten minutes to six, feeling smug that I was getting a jump on the day. I would soon make my first mistake.
The first of the three stores, and the closest, was the Target down the street. When I pulled up at 5:57am, my smugness dissolved. The parking lot was full of cars, and both doors had long lines snaking along each side of the building, three people wide! What the heck? Was I missing something? I waited in my car a few minutes while the doors opened and everyone filed in, orderly and calm. The only thing on my list was a couple of digital photo frames, so I meandered to the back of the store to the electronics department. Unfortunately, that was where everyone else had also gone! The aisles were jammed, angry voices grumbled, and already carts full of plasma tvs and video game systems were escaping back towards the front of the store. On my way through the maze of bodies, I passed an empty endcap just as a woman was asking a harried sales associate if they had any of the Wii video game systems left. The sales guy pointed at the shelves right next to me and said, “Well, that’s where they were… oh! There’s one left on the bottom shelf!”
Luckily, I had just passed the shelf in time. Three bodies hurled themselves at that bottom shelf, a short wrestling match ensued, and a triumphant woman rose from the fray with both arms wrapped around the box. I was afraid it would come to blows, but she was quick as lightning and was out of there before anyone could take a swing at her. I ventured on, a little more wary than before. I worked my way towards the digital camera section, where the counter was completely encased in standing bodies. That crowd seemed dangerousl so I gave a wide berth, and left them eyeing each other warily. It looked as if any one of them could rush the counter, causing a stampede. I worked my way around the counter to where I thought the digital frames might be. I spied a familiar box between denim-covered legs, and asked the bearer of the denim to, “Excuse me,” in the most pleasant and unthreatening manner I could muster.
Denim lady moved aside, but scowled at me and said, “Don’t bother, they’re all gone.” I was about to protest and ask her how it was that she could read minds but was hanging out at Target instead of getting rich, but a quick look showed me she was right. I glared back at her and made my exit. Only when I got back towards the front of the store did I realize I had been holding my breath, so I took a moment to stop and take some deep breaths. I saw the Starbucks near the exit, and detoured for a Grande Peppermint Mocha. Thus fortified, I decided to shake of my temporary defeat and go on to the next store. It was 6:15.
I made my next mistake by going to the JoAnn Fabric store nearest, instead of to the Michael’s that was in the next town over. It was small and crowded, but craft ladies aren’t nearly as pushy as desperate denim-clad parents. I spend a pleasant time loading up on the staples of soap making and gift wrapping, confident in my coupon for 20% off. There was an extra-long line to check out, but it passed quietly, if slowly. Smugness returned as I loaded my purchases into the car, took a long drag on my Mocha, and realized I had over 2 hours before the 9am deadline for my coupon for the next (and last) store.
A short drive later, I was pulling into the Michael’s craft store, and noticing the long lines of first-wave shoppers already checking out. I spent a very pleasant hour piling my little cart up high with all of the crafting supplies my heart desired. I kept a close eye on the clock, and realizing that I would never get away with just one cart full of items, I planned to go through the check out line and then go back in for the items I made a mental note of on my first pass through. I picked a short line for checkout, and got a grumpy sales associate with a thick accent who obviously did not want to be there. The total quickly climed sky-high, but my coupon for 25% off knocked it back down to a reasonable level. (More than reasonable! I was getting 25% off items that were already 50% off. What husband could complain about saving 75%?) As I handed my coupon to the sales associate, I asked her if I could have it back when she was done. She gave me an incredulous look and haughtily snapped, “We can’t give back the coupon after you’ve already used it!” I decided it would do me no good to explain that I was going to take my purchases out to the car, and then turn around and come back in for another pass. The lady behind me gave me a pitying look, and I smiled sheepishly.
The cold morning air was refreshing as I rolled my brimming cart out to the car and loaded everything into the back. Feeling refreshed, I went back in for the things I had mentally noted before – all of them breakable items like glass jars and coffee mugs. At $1 or $.99 each, I cared little about not having my coupon any more. I made it back to the checkout line with 15 minutes to spare before the 9am sale deadline. I chose a line next to the grumpy lady with the accent, and got a younger, kinder sales associate. I instantly made friends by telling her there was no need to wrap every item. I told her I would be extra careful, but that I had so many of them (over 30!) that it would take her all day. She looked relieved and was able to ring up the order in no time. When it came time to ask me if I had a coupon, I told her that I had one earlier, but that I had already used it. She gave me a secret smile, and pulled a coupon out of her drawer. I thanked her kindly, paid, and got the heck out of there.
Feeling satisfied with having saved over $100 in a short few hours, I called my husband to check and see how he and the toddler were doing. Learning they were fine, I asked for “permission” to stay out “just one more hour,” and received his blessing. A quck stop into Half Price Books rewarded me with several new (to me) books on soap and candle making. Upon exiting, I saw a familiar sign out of the corner of my eye, and stopped. “Damn.” There was another JoAnn Fabrics! A really big one! I decided to walk through and check it out. My third mistake.
I had entered crafting heaven. It was much bigger than the other JoAnn’s. It was bigger than the Michael’s. It had EVERYTHING. I refrained from grabbing a cart, or even a basket, but did pick up a few items. Returning to the front of the store, I found a checkout line that looked relatively short, and settled in for a short wait. Not to be. A slightly snippy lady in a Christmas sweater tugged at my sleeve. “Excuse me, but the line starts back here.” I followed the pointed finger to the long line I had apparently cut.
Realizing it was my mistake, I ignored her snottiness, told her I was sorry, and took the walk of shame back towards the end of the line. Something stopped me from joining it, as I decided to try my luck at the checkout stands on the other side of the store. Turns out it was a good decision, because although that line looked as long as the other, it moved much more quickly. I had paid for my items, and returned towards the front of the store in time to pass the sweater lady. I flashed her a grin as I left, and she resumed waiting in the line she had so carefully guarded.
Hungry, sore feet, tired, and relieved, I headed for home. Will I do it again next year? Yes! But no Target, I will go to the big craft store first, I will make sure not to cut in front of snippy ladies wearing Christmas sweaters!