It's Thanksgiving week and you know what that
means - a rush at your local pharmacy as anxious people refill their Prozac
prescriptions so they can get through another family get-together. Not to
mention overworked emergency room doctors and nurses trying to keep up as the
rate of undercooked turkey-related salmonella poisoning reaches epidemic
proportions. And, my personal favorite, a battery of commercials letting us know
that all the local stores will be opening at 4 a.m. for day-after-Thanksgiving
shopping! Woo-hoo, I can hardly wait.
I know stores always open early on the biggest
shopping day of the year, but 4 a.m.? There used be a time long ago when I was
willing to stay up until 4 a.m. if the music and company were good, but never
have I intentionally gotten up for anything that early. Not even to wait in line
for tickets to a Don Henley concert, and really, that's about the only thing
that would have done it for me.
I don't care if Wal-Mart is offering a cheap karaoke machine for only $20
but only between the hours of four and six. Even if someone in a blue vest
showed up at my front door with the karaoke machine in tow, I wouldn't answer
their knock. I figure every hour I can sleep is worth about $500, so stores are
going to have to offer some hefty savings to get me to open my eyes before
daylight.
It's not that I don't understand the psychology of
wee-hours-of-the-morning shopping. Especially in this tough economic climate.
("Honey, should we get your mom these
slippers or should we pay to have the electricity turned back on until the
turkey's done?") Retailers are relying on the fact that most people aren't
fully awake that early no matter how grande the Starbucks they gulped down on
the way. And when your brain isn't fully-functional, you're bound to make stupid
mistakes, like buying a mechanical Santa that dances to "Get Your Rocks Off,
Baby."
It's the same principal you see play out in bars late at night (or so
I've heard). It's dark outside and you're not thinking straight. You've been
there a few hours and you really don't want to go home empty-handed, so you get
desperate and grab for anything.
Especially if you've
been downing beer or stuffing your face with free chocolate many stores give out
as an additional enticement to get you to stick around. In both cases, you're
very likely to take something home you normally wouldn't and then wake up the
next morning and wonder what the hell you were thinking.
And in both cases, there's someone there to help you make poor choices.
Bars have bartenders who listen to your sob stories about your lousy job and
your ungrateful kids while pouring you drinks. During the holidays, stores have
cashiers who will gladly stand there while you explain that Aunt Helga has hated
everything you've ever given so this time you want to make sure you spend enough
money to get it right. They're enablers is what they are.
I'm not saying don't buy anything for the holidays. That would make me an
unpatriotic scrooge (don't hate me because I did
all my holiday shopping at garage sales in July). But maybe you
should at least wait until noon or
whenever you finally wake up from the tryptophan coma you fell into after
downing turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, and that weird cranberry concoction no
one else was willing to try. Sure you may miss out on a bargain or two, but
you're a lot less likely to hate yourself the next day when you find yourself
surrounded by bags full of Chia Pets, Salad Shooters and musical nose hair
trimmers.
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