“I can’t really be this stupid,” I thought as I drove to the mall after work at 5 a.m. on Black Friday. I had just had breakfast with another stripper before I got there. At breakfast, I kept telling her that she was a moron for participating in that capitalist cluster-f*** nightmare. There is nothing appealing about the lines, the crowds and the acquisition of entirely useless junk. She had been so excited for Black Friday all week. She is intensely confrontational and shameless and the traits come through in the way she works (she has a nightly goal to earn $2,000 that is nearly always met), the way she dresses (if it doesn’t have sparkles, she’s not wearing it) and in the way she shops. She says she is not afraid to fight someone for a pair of shoes.
She tells me the deals are too good to pass up. Back at the strip club the night before Black Friday, I had seen girls lying on their stomachs in the locker room, carefully combing through the sale advertisements like they were reading a good book. How can we spend our baby formula money in the most frivolous way? Shoes? Bling? Everyone had something in mind. Even the bouncer is buying a cathouse for his three cats. My breakfast partner tells me not to knock the moron party if I’ve never tried it. She may have been right. I had never seen the angry mob of Black Friday shoppers in person so I figured I’d take a look. I was awake anyway.
With no trace of light in the early morning sky, I drove into the parking lot of the Boulevard Mall. The mass hysteria drove already beginning. There was an almost complete disregard for a four-way stop. Madness, I tell you. I parked and got out of my car. I nearly got run over while crossing the street.
Inside, the department stores and few others were open. People were congregating in front of their favorite stores, waiting to be the first to dump their income on crap. My poison had been the lingerie store. I walked passed it while it was still closed. I looked through the metal bars and drooled over the jewel-colored satin corsets, the black lace and the thigh high stockings.
The iron curtain was lifted and I was the first one in. There was a discount of about 75 percent. I think I originally gave myself a budget of $25 for a few lacey panties but the idiot fever took hold of me and my arms are still sore from carrying everything through the mall and back to the car. I even bought my first pair of tacky clear plastic stripper shoes, complete with sparkles. Remind me to avoid the mall on Black Friday next year.
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