Married to a Black Friday Junkie

All families have a few skeletons in the closet.  Secrets they would be happy for the neighbors never to know.  There's always some habit or event that is a little sad and embarrassing, or even tragic, that has no real resolution, but just IS.

Our embarrassing event happens annually.  My husband doesn't really think he has a problem.  But he does.  I know it's coming, the end of every November.  I hope each year that he won't do it again.  But it's inevitable.  He can't help himself.  My husband is a Black Friday Junkie.

It starts on Thanksgiving Day.  He wakes up and says he's going out, to find a newspaper.  Normally we don't get a newspaper...we read our news on the Internet.  He has to find the Thanksgiving morning issue.

He comes home with the local newspaper, 25 pounds worth because of all the ads.  He spreads them out on the dining room table and starts perusing.  He circles the outrageously good deals, possible gifts or items of interest with a pen.  He knows the stores only have 3 of them.  He knows they are out to catch the consumer, to suck them into the store to just buy more.  He circles them anyway.

Then he plans out his route.  What time do the stores open?  Which stores are close to each other?

This year, the Target and Kohl's ads are extra enticing.  Instead of opening at 4 a.m. the Friday after Thanksgiving, they open at MIDNIGHT THANKSGIVING NIGHT.  What??  You don't have to go to bed at all.  Just stay up, and then go to the store for the deals.

After Thanksgiving dinner and socializing with friends, we make our way home.  The ads are still out on the table.  He peruses again.  I am so tired by 10:00, I go upstairs.  By 10:30 I am out like a light.

I open my eyes at 2:53 a.m.  The bathroom light is still on, like I left it.  His side of the bed is still empty.  I walk downstairs, hoping against hope that he just started a movie late, and it is about to end.  No such luck.  The basement is dark and quiet.  I shake my head.  He's gone shopping.

I go back to bed.  At 6:15 I open my eyes again.  Still no Frank.  At 6:30 I hear the garage door open.  He is back.

It turns out, Kohl's and Target pulled a trick and while the ad said midnight, they didn't actually open until 1a.m.  He waits with the crowds.  Then after shopping those 2 stores amongst the ridiculously large masses (at 1 a.m.-- literally hundreds of shoppers at 1 a.m.), it's after 3.  Home Depot opens at 4, and he's already there, right?  This is the warped rationale of an addict.  Get a yogurt and banana at Target, and there's only 30 minutes until the next store opens.

I wish it was different.  He decided not to go to bed when he got home.  He hasn't slept now for 36 hours.  I do my best to cover up this insane behavior to the neighbors.  I would get him professional help, but like I said, he doesn't think he has a problem.  I sigh and shake my head.

It's over.  Until next year.