The year was 2013. I was 17 and in desperate need of discounted loungewear and spa gift sets. Victoria's Secret sales cause quite the frenzy, and Black Friday is no exception. This was the first year that the majority of stores in my area were starting their Black Friday sales on Thursday night, and no one knew how to handle it.
Once I saw about five people lined up outside of VS (which wasn't going to open until midnight, and it was 9:30), I started the dreaded wait. I sat on the cold, dirty, strip mall concrete and watched my toes basically turn blue. Ballet flats were a bad idea. Hypothermia. This is how I go.
I had to basically bribe a friend with almost everything I own to go to my house 15 minutes away to get my UGGs because I was not about to lose my spot or my feet. I need my feet to trample over the now 50 other women in line to score half-priced cheeksters.
Then, 11:30 rolls around and everyone starts to slowly and obviously shift closer and closer to the door. It's starting to feel cramped, and we're outdoors. That's how you know things are about to get real. My friends and I are pressed between all kinds of middle-aged men who have zero knowledge about what they're about to buy their wives. Suffocation. This is how I go.
There they were. Those poor innocent women in all black with their baby pink measuring tapes around their necks. Folding the hopeless panty bar into a pretty piece of art, knowing that it will get destroyed in seconds. I'm generally small, so I was hopping up and down trying to see in the windows. I had to locate my main areas of interest before the doors opened so I could make a beeline to the leggings, sweatshirts and pre-wrapped PJ sets for my mom.
The crowd got excited and immediately pressed against the glass when the manager came to unlock the doors and sprint away from the mob.
That's when it happened.
Bam! I got an elbow straight to the eye.
Oh, hell no!
This woman saw herself do this. She didn't even try to pretend it was an accident. Luckily, the bruising was minimal, but ohhhh, was I salty. Of course, I talk a big game to myself, but I am the least confrontational person you'll meet. So, instead of decking her back, I settled for passive aggressive glares and line-cutting.
I left the store with an empty bank account, clothes i didn't need, and a shiner that officially made me a Black Friday Veteran.
