It didn't used to be that way. In high school and college, my sister and I would pick up our maternal grandmother and hit the early sales. By early, it meant K-mart opened at 8 a.m. We'd hit a few other stores for some odds and ends. We ended the morning at Bob Evans for breakfast.
Now, you're lucky if someone doesn't pull a gun on you while you camp out in front of some store or customers don't trample you to death while you're trying to unlock your employer's main doors.
Unfortunately, Black Friday is not the only "crazy people" day in our part of the country.
But we need to make the trek up to Detroit to deliver my father-in-law's car to a buyer. (He's nearly ninety and voluntarily stopped driving for which we are profoundly grateful.)
Darling Husband suggested instead of taking the car up on Friday, why don't we do it on Saturday?
I just stared at him.
"What's wrong with Saturday?"
"Ohio State and Michigan."
"Oh, shit," he muttered. Along with a few other words I don't feel comfortable repeating in public.
And I'm the one with the potty mouth.
You see, our little town is on the route that a large number of folks from Columbus, Ohio, and Ann Arbor, Michigan, take to each other's stadiums. Since Michigan is hosting the game, we'd be sharing the road north for a good chunk of the way with pumped up, and possibly drunk, Buckeyes fans.
So, despite my Black Friday fears, and if you're reading this on Friday morning, we're heading up north to deliver the car.
I just wish I knew where my Michigan University sweatshirt is.
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