Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and I am so excited. Surrounded by delicious food and my family, it really doesn’t get any better. But it’s the next day, Black Friday, that flashes my memory back to my childhood.
Considering the memories I have from my childhood of those day-after-Thanksgiving sales, you would think I would never venture into the retail chaos again.
Until I was old enough to form my own opinion, I was taken to every store within a 60-mile radius for those Black Friday sales.
My grandmother would load us kids up in her Ford station wagon at 3 a.m. because it took about an hour to get to Jackson from the sleepy town of Monticello.
Pulling into the Northpark shopping mall on two wheels at 4 a.m., we always headed to McRae’s (now Belk’s) first. They gave you a box of Crackerjacks that might hold a whopper of a diamond ring inside.
As I calmly placed the sugar-goodness of the beloved popcorn in my mouth, my Maw Maw would snatch my box away and dump all its contents into a nearby trash box.
“The ring,” she would exclaim like Santa leaving a rooftop. “Was it in there?!? Hurry! We have got to get to the perfume counter. Elizabeth Taylor’s Passions is 75 percent off!!!!”
The same woman who couldn’t walk to the mailbox without a walking stick was all of a sudden skipping like a mountain goat over to Elizabeth Taylor’s latest perfume (held in a signature, yet collectible purple bottle).
I found a safe corner to wait in while women threw punches over imitation leather purses and grown men stampeded over security guards for the two-cassette entertainment center.
And in the distance, I saw her. My Aunt Sonya was making her way through the crowd. My bunch made Black Friday a family affair.
Decked out in her green velour pant suit, Aunt Sonya had somehow managed to find a small buggy. No telling who she had to take out to get it, but believe me, she probably assaulted someone to grab it.
“Jamie, come stand by the buggy,” she bellowed over the crowd. “Don’t let anybody grab these jelly-sandals. They are two for the price of one.”
As I stood guard over an assortment of blue, green, pink, yellow, red and orange sandals, I was horrified of the intensity of Black Friday.
Within seconds, Maw Maw and Aunt Sonya appeared like two lifeguards from a Baywatch episode. They had a ton of boxes under their arms, struggling to hang onto them.
“What is all that,” I asked, as they piled them on top of the plastic shoes.
“Everything,” Maw Maw replied. “These chocolate-covered cherries and hard candy boxes are part of the deal here. For every ten dollars you spend, you get a box of these.”
“What are you going to do with all this candy,” I asked. “Paw Paw is a diabetic. He can’t eat it.”
“Stocking stuffers, Jamie,” Aunt Sonya replied, looking at me like I was a dunce. “You can never go wrong with food.”
I guarded that buggy for close to five hours as I was led to every department of the store.
I was handed a hot Coke and a sample of summer sausage from the kitchen department. My head was on fire from the amount of perfume samples shoved into my face.
“Can I just go to the arcade,” I asked, being shoved into the elevator.
Any other day, my folks would have loved to hand me over to my childhood babysitters of Pac Man and Space Invaders. But not today.
“We need you,” Maw Maw said. “At 5 o’clock, they are handing out scratch-and-win tabs for the new cookware set.”
I was in a torture chamber. I would remain in that shopping center until 8 o’clock that night.
All I had to show for it was a half-eaten box of chocolates, a belly full of hot soda pop, a coat smelling of Passions and Jovan Musk mixed with a hint of desperation.
Maw Maw had a station wagon full of gifts, a new set of cookware and a smile on her face.
For some unknown reason, I continued to shop on Black Fridays when I got older. I like to think I know the tricks of the trade.
But I can’t help but smile when I see that kid in the corner with a dazed look, a buggy of random items.
“Don’t worry kid...it’s almost over,” I said.
