I’ve discovered that I don’t like to be told what I should hate. I’ve never been very good at doing what I’m told. And during the holidays, I just can’t seem to get on board with other people’s agendas. Can’t do it. Tried. Failed. Now, I am doing my own thing.
Take Black Friday. I’m supposed to hate it and shake my fist about consumerism and bemoan the state of our nation because going shopping has usurped “family time.” But, I don’t hate shopping, even though I do not choose to get in a fist fight on Thanksgiving night at Wal-Mart. I did, however, brave the crowds on Friday and it was a lovely bonding time with my sister-in-law. We spent 1.5 hours trying to get into a crowded parking lot, then waited in line for 20 minutes to get into a store where I couldn’t afford very much, and then fought back through the crowds to get a snack and find our car.
I get that for some people that sounds like hell. Literally, Dante-eque, hell. But I had fun. There is no better people watching on American soil than an outlet mall in Las Vegas. (Come to think of it, the outing may have been hell for my sister-in-law who was stuck in a car and then a line with me for HOURS, but for me it was a fun adventure.)
When I was in retail, I worked the day after Thanksgiving, and I loved it. I was happy to have some place to go, actually. When you are in Texas and not a football fan and you’ve had enough grazing on leftovers to last you through spring, being at work (Express in the Post Oak Mall in College Station) isn’t the worst thing ever. I honestly loved it: the energy was pulsing, the customers streamed in all day, and the Christmas music hadn’t made me want to kill myself with my dressing room keys yet.
So, I’m not doing a good job at hating on Black Friday. Or the Elf on the Shelf, but that’s not fair because we actually don’t have one. It looks like this year our family is going to skew more Jewish than Christian, so I am off the hook regarding elves. But if someone gave me that Elf, I would stick it in a pot or a flour canister and whoop it up every morning, or so I’d like to tell myself.
I’m not hating on Christmas music (yet) or Salvation Army bell ringers or commercials on TV or the divine candy displays at Trader Joe’s. So don’t have me for not hating what you hate. Also, check back here for updates, because there’s puh-lenty of time for me to get my hate on. I’m just not there yet.