Waiting to pound each other into fruitcake at 5am and lunge at the pimply stock boy who will haul out a lorry of shitty-resolution "HDTVs" discounted by a hundred bucks.
Whole aisles roped off for no discernible reason, cordoned off and vacant, or clogged with mile-long lines of whooping and cackling shoppers, leaning on their shopping carts, rolling them back and forth restlessly, scanning the Black Friday insert for anything they might have missed.
Gangs of children root through bins of $5 DVDs. A wild-eyed, slightly homeless-looking man walks up to a gaggle of leather-faced women and demands to know where the line for the shitty-resolution laptop discounted by a hundred bucks is. They look at him like he had let them in on the secret that when he feels sad he sometimes likes to eat his own poop, then they turn from him and go back to yakking about their children, who have names like Skylar and JT.
The wild-eyed man says something caustically about asking a "simple question" and one of the leather women turns on him and says (listen, poop-eater), "We don't work here."
Friends and family work in relay, bringing one another Slim Jims, Twinkies, cheese crackers, and Red Bull, then stand in for them while they go to the bathroom.
After clearing the Soviet-style bread-line that trickles back from the registers like cracks in ice, they file out to their vehicles, stash their loot, and drive into the American-style bread line waiting to leave the parking lot.
I was trapped in the store until 3:30; I went to bed at 6. But we got a printer for 29 bucks, a ShopVac for 15, a paper shredder for 20, and I picked up two Rubbermaid travel container sets for you to port your inimitable culinary concoctions (9 & 15 dollars respectively). Plus, the handle on the dishwasher fixed itself using the $5 ratcheting screwdriver I got. (I threatened to take it to Wal-Mart and leave it there...).
Ho-fucking-ho.
--Spoon
