If you’re still on the fence about hitting the stores on Black Friday Eve (Or “Thanksgiving,” as some insist on calling it), read about my experience for a shove in the right direction.

As a newly married couple, Deserae and I got off to a great start. We had a beautiful apartment, a tan from an amazing honeymoon and enough love to last for a lifetime. By the time November rolled around, we lacked only one thing – a gigantic TV.

I mean, we technically owned a hand-me-down tube TV that “worked,” but no one could expect us to survive on that for long, right? We held out as long as we could (Black Friday Eve), and dove into the Thanksgiving ads.

That’s when we saw it: Target’s 46” flatscreen 1080P LED for $200. We looked at each other.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

“YES!”

I truly could not think of a better way to spend my evening. 

After we enjoyed Thanksgiving with our family, I went home to get a couple hours of rest before my adventure. I had never ventured out on Black Friday before, and I was so excited for my first time that I couldn’t sleep.

At 10 p.m., I set out by myself for the Parma Target (Deserae was already at Walmart with her mom battling some lady for a steam mop). When I got to the store at 10:15, the first thing I noticed was that the line was already 50 people deep. This surprised me, because Target was opening at 4 a.m., and I just figured people wouldn’t start showing up until like midnight at least. I mean, there were some good deals, but they weren’t that good.

The second thing I noticed was that it was perfect weather for sitting outside for six hours: 38 degrees and a steady, light drizzle. Fortunately, I had prepared for this possibility with a light jacket and a piece of cardboard to sit on.

By 10:30, I noticed a few more things:

• I had vastly overestimated the waterproof capabilities of cardboard.
• Roughly 80 percent of the people in line were keeping warm by smoking like chimneys.
• This was not a friendly crowd.

I’ve stood in plenty of long lines, and I feel like people usually make the best of it by making new friends and joking around. That may have been the case further back in line, but the front of the line was basically Hurricane Katrina refugees waiting for the last pallet of water (If you replaced “Hurricane Katrina” with “The holiday where you’re supposed to be thankful for things” and “water” with “discounted consumer electronics”). The worst people in Parma were swearing, snarling and ready to knife anyone who so much as looked at their spot in line. It was a fun crew!

The worst people in Parma were swearing, snarling and ready to knife anyone who so much as looked at their spot in line. It was a fun crew!

I kept myself busy by playing games on my iPod and shivering. Time clipped right along as I racked up high score after high score on Mega Jump. When my vision started going bleary from staring at the screen, I finally shut down the game to see how many hours had passed.

It was 11:00 p.m.

Deserae called me at 11:15.

“Hey hon, I just got home. Your coat’s still in the closet. What are you wearing?”

“My jacket!”

Siiiiiiiiiiiigh. “OK, I’ll be down there in a few minutes with your coat.”

“What?! No I’m fine!” (Said between teeth chatters)

Siiiiiiiiiiiigh. *Click.*

At 11:30, Deserae showed up with the coat.

She stopped when she saw me and my cardboard. “Wait, why didn’t you bring a chair?!”

“Because I don’t want to lose it when I go into the store.”

“Isn’t your butt wet?”

“Very much so.”

“Then why don’t you stand up?”

“The cigarette smoke isn’t as bad down here.”

“OK, well I’m staying to keep you company.”

I looked around at my neighbors, many of whom had already noticed Deserae and were glaring.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

I leaned in close and whispered. “Save yourself.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she got up to leave. “Well, I hope this is at least worth it.”

After she left, the hours went by in a blur (not because they went fast, but mostly because I’ve pretty successfully blocked them from my memory.) Here are a couple things I remember.

Around 1 a.m., rumors started travelling down the line. It sounded like there’d be about 20 models of each TV. The guy behind me was the only one not interested in a TV – he just wanted to know about the Lord of the Rings deluxe DVD set. “Do you know how many Lord of the Rings they have? Did they tell anyone yet? I feel like they probably don’t have many. Excuse me, do you know how many Lord of the Rings they have?”

I was thisclose to turning around and shouting, “SETTLE DOWN PAL. The only thing more boring than waiting in this line is watching wizards walk in a forest for 12 hours. I think you’ll be fine.”

The only thing more boring than waiting in this line is watching wizards walk in a forest for 12 hours.

By 2 a.m., a strange calm come over me. I attribute it to the nicotine.

By 3 a.m., the police arrived. I chuckled and wondered out loud, “Isn’t that a little overkill?” Lord of the Rings Guy did not smile.

By 3:20 a.m., our first line jumper showed up. I found out why the police were there when a cop saved him from a savage beating from the front of the line.

At 3:45 a.m., after the fourth potential line jumper had just suffered a similar fate, my cousin Tim arrived.

“Hey! Nice to see you saved a spot in line for us!” he joked while pretending to cut in line. My eyes got wide and I shook my head violently. One hundred pairs of eyes instantly turned our way. Fortunately, Tim got the hint and stepped back just before things could get ugly.

At 4 a.m., they started letting people in. An employee at the door was telling everybody to “Walk walk walk walllllllk walkwalkwalk wallllllk,” which was a good idea that lasted for two seconds.

I joined the stampede to the junior’s section where the TVs were. My heart was beating out of my chest as I ran. I saw a handful of the 46″ TVs on the ground. I picked up the pace. Someone grabbed one. A man claimed another. Two left. I was going to make it.

And then, just as I reached the pile, a large Parma woman claimed the last two by SPRAWLING ON TOP OF THEM.

I’ve never understood why fights break out on Black Friday. Is a $100 discount on something you don’t really need worth a police record? But at that moment, facing the prospect of leaving empty-handed and soggy-pantsed thanks to an enormous woman lying on my TV, I instantly got it.

I was about to say something to her, but as I started opening my mouth, an angry crowd formed around us. Swears and threats ensued. The circle got tighter. Because I’ve never been tased and would like to keep it that way, I backed away and walked off in a daze.

I wandered around the store for a while and decided to buy a $10 sandwich press. (I tried it the next day. It was horrible. I never used it again. It is free to a good home.) As I trudged out of the store, I had to walk around a guy getting handcuffed by the police.

When I got home at 5 a.m., I turned on the computer to look for other deals on TVs. If I felt bad in Target, the computer made me want to throw up. On Slickdeals.net, a site I’d never heard of before, I found that people had just walked into Target the previous week and bought as many TVs as they wanted. On Black Friday, they simply went back to the store and price matched their TVs down to $200.

When I went to bed that night, I tried to feel better by telling myself that I may not have gotten a TV, but I did have my freedom and a sandwich maker (technically, I also had pneumonia and emphysema, but I left that part out).

It didn’t work – I didn’t 100% get over that night until the next Black Friday, when I returned to the scene of the crime a week early to buy three TVs. I ended up selling two on Craigslist for a profit, which meant I got to keep the third for free.

Take that, Black Friday.

LIFE LESSON #46

Black Friday is for suckers.