Thelma East’s Black Friday Rebellion

It was 10:59 p.m. on Thanksgiving and the scene outside of the MegaMart Superstore looked like a kicked over fire ant nest.  Hundreds of impatient shoppers pressed anxiously against the doors. They were eagerly awaiting their chance to get a MacroSoft U-Box video game system (for the amazingly low price of $199.)

Little did they know, there were only five of them. The Security Guard knew it. That’s why there was fear in his eyes.

Just hours before, these dark angels of greed gathered around their respective dinner tables giving thanks for what they had.  It was now Black Friday. And they wanted MORE.

Thelma East knew the Pilgrims had probably done the same thing.  They had a nice meal with the Indians and then went and raided their food stores the very next day.   The crisp cold air nipped at her nose as moon danced in and out of the clouds.  An assistant manager walked toward the front doors with the look of terror.  Black Friday shoppers, like dogs, smelled fear.  The assistant manager would have been safer wearing a red cape while running with the bulls.

A rather loud lady tried to cut in line.  Another woman, still committed to the last thread of civilization that could possibly exist on Black Friday, quickly set her straight. The rest of the crowd offered support and the line-busting woman slinked to the back of the crowd in shame.  Black Friday turned average Americans into a scene from Lord of the Flies.  Thelma East expected to see a pig head and hear a conch shell blow at any moment.

As the key unlocked the door, the bloodlust for the U-Box reached a fever pitch.

“U-BOX, U-BOX, U-BOX, U-BOX!” the crowd began to chant.

The assistant manager, using the same technique he would use to escape an oncoming tornado, ran at a ninety-degree angle.  “God have mercy on your souls,” he muttered as he ran back toward his duty station.

Like water pouring through a failed dam, the mass of humanity poured through the MegaMart entrance.  The greeter ducked behind a Dark Knight Rises display. But even Batman couldn’t save her.  A 68-year-old woman with a cane body-checked her into a pile of Twinkie boxes. Twinkies and the greeter were both history.  One shopper shoved another in the back, getting a purse aimed at her head.

If Christmas represented Peace on Earth, Goodwill to men, it had taken the night off.  There was none of that. And there was no Thankgiving, either. This was all about the prize.

The cashier in the electronics department heard the rumbling coming toward her.  Dust rose in the front of the store as the hoard crashed like a tsunami toward the helpless teenager. Hundreds of shoppers were about to fight over five U-boxes.

Civil Wars have started over less.

Thelma East looked older, but was remarkably agile.  She outpaced the man on oxygen and reached the front of the pack.  Thelma thought of the joke, “Can you outrun a bear? No, I just have to be able to outrun you.”  She could see the U-Box. She could taste the U-Box. She would soon possess the U-Box.

Her hands gripped the cardboard box as she hustled past the display. If she had stopped, she would have been mobbed and probably had her prize stripped from her fingers.  But she never broke stride.  In the Black Friday Olympics, she had just won the gold in record time.  She quickly ducked behind a Honey Boo Boo video display to catch her breath.  Her eyes admired lovingly the cardboard box.  The U-Box. The finest of all game systems.

She. Had. Won.

Epiphanies hit at the strangest times and in the strangest places.

As she looked at her hard-won prize, Thelma East thought, “Why do I need a U-Box?”  Thelma had no children. She had no grandchildren.  She realized it was just about wanting, not needing.

The Pilgrims would have puked.

She looked over at the still large crowd. They were shoving not loving. They were spiteful not thankful.

In the back of the crowd was a slender woman. She looked to be about 35 and had dark circles under her eyes.  By the looks of her clothes, she probably wasn’t particularly wealthy, either.  The look of disappointment on her face told Thelma that the slender woman had come here for a purpose.  Thelma made eye contact with her and quietly gestured for her to come over to the video section.

“What’s your name? Mine’s Thelma.”

“Sandy.”

“You have kids, Sandy?”

“Yes, ma’am. Two boys.  This has been a tough year for us.  They lost their dad in a car accident.  I’m trying to give them what they really wanted from Santa.  I thought I could get a U-Box tonight, but I guess I was kidding myself.”

Thelma smiled. Like the Grinch, her heart grew two sizes that night. (But it probably had more to do with the fat-laden meal she had eaten earlier in the day.)

She bent over and picked up the box off the shelf next to her. She handed it to the shocked woman and said, “Sandy, Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas.”

The tired mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of the precious U-Box. “Um.”

Thelma waived her hand and said, “Don’t say another word. Let’s go to the cashier.  My treat.”

And at that moment in the middle of a suburban MegaMart, Thelma East had a glorious Black Friday rebellion.