Years ago I spent the night at Wal Mart, camping out on Thanksgiving night for their Black Friday sale. They had advertised a laptop computer that I wanted to buy, for a ridiculously low price.
I had come prepared to spend the evening outside in the sub-zero weather and was dressed like an Eskimo, arriving at about 11 p.m. I was happy when the early bird campers like me were invited inside by the store manager and allowed to form a line next to the customer service desk. Store benches and chairs were brought out for us to sit on and one employee even brought us hot coffee. Not so fortunate were the poor freezing saps camped outside of Best Buy, and, as I later learned, other Wal Marts around the country.
The store manager asked each of us what the single most important thing was that we were there to buy. As it turned out, we were all there for the same thing: the bargain laptop. The manager gave us each a numbered card on which he wrote “laptop” and his initials. He then told us that the store only had twelve of the bargain laptops for sale. At the time, there were only eleven people in line; I was number nine. The sale was set to begin at 5:30 a.m.
By 5:00 a.m., the store was jam-packed with thousands of people. Throughout the night, after laptop-buyer number twelve had arrived, other people had straggled into the store, only to find out that all of the laptops had been spoken for. As the early morning crowd began to swell, though, there was simply no practical way to tell them that all of the laptops had, in essence, been pre-sold. At about 5:15 a.m., the store manager escorted our sleepy group of twelve through the crowd back to the electronics department. We were told to guard our precious numbered cards and to stick together.
The electronics department was shoulder-to-shoulder shoppers, many of whom began to stare at us, wondering what made us so special. As word got out that we were the honored few that would be allowed to buy the bargain laptops, some people turned and left the store, disappointed. One elderly lady got into a huge, extended argument with the manager, shouting that it wasn’t fair that people should be able to come early and lay claim to merchandise that wasn’t officially for sale. The laptops were wheeled out of the back room on a big cart, guarded by two nervous employees. Some people looked like they were going to lunge out and snatch the laptops off of the cart. This did not make the laptop guards happy. When the clock finally made it to 5:30, we were rapidly handed our prized laptops, for which we promptly paid, being the first customers to check out at the electronics department register. I beat a hasty retreat, clutching the laptop to my chest like a mother protecting her firstborn in a den of lions, and headed home.
Was my Black Friday adventure worth the hassle? It’s all a matter of perspective, I suppose. I did save about $160, which I considered worth the investment of time. These days, however, Black Friday sales are starting to look less like a good deal and more like a brush with danger. This season’s Black Friday was marred by one man trampled to death and four other people hospitalized by Wal Mart shoppers in New York, two men killing each other inside of a California Toys R Us, and confrontations, scuffles and fights breaking out in other stores around the country.
Oddly enough, almost all of the amazing Black Friday bargains for which people risk life and limb can also be found on the Internet. Many shopping websites had Black Friday sales in which you could participate simply by clicking a mouse. No lines, no waiting and no fighting, bargains galore await you on the Internet. Some of my favorite websites, such as Newegg.com for electronics and Amazon for electronics and just about everything else, have been offering sale prices equal to or better than those that can be found at traditional in-store Black Friday sales. Even Wal Mart was offering most of its Black Friday deals online. Other sites, such as Buy.com and Jr.com offer prices that can rival any Black Friday sale.
Phooey on Black Friday madness; I’m shopping from my couch.