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29 Observations From the Back of a Line on Black Friday

Damnit! How the hell are there 10 people here already? Crap crap crap. The flier said there was only ten of the good plasmas at the stupid low price. And I bet every one of these turdnecks in front of me gets one.

Screw you world. Screw you for making me pathetic enough to be here at eleven at night, but not pathetic enough to be here at ten. It's just the exact wrong amount of patheticness to have. A bit less and I start owning shoes with laces, and making friends again; a bit more and I start qualifying for government aid.

So what exactly am I still doing here? There's nothing else in there that I actually need. I don't want to go in there and start instinctively buying shiny things, like some kind of magpie. I swear, if I come out of here with a god damned Blu-Ray player, I will shoot myself in the lung.

For that matter, do I actually need this television? Will my life be better for having it? I can't think of anyone who would actually be impressed by this. I bet if I tried to tell my grandchildren about this one day, they'd just leave the room.

No, damnit. This television will make me happy. I know it. And that's the worst part. That this television will make me happy. I'm not even human any more, am I?

I bet if a caveman saw me, he wouldn't recognize me as a man. He'd think that I smelled like death. He'd leave me to die with the rest of these sickly specimens, go off to kill something with a spear, and then fill my girlfriend with strong, powerful babies. And I'd respect him for it.

When this is all said and done, I'm going in to the woods and I'm going to kill something with my bare hands. Even if it's a bag of Cheetos. Every fucking holiday season I get this conviction that I need to go eat Cheetos in the woods, but this year I'm going to do something about it.

I guess I could hope that not everyone in front of me gets the TV. That sounds risky though. Spending hours waiting in the cold to buy a television is stupid. But spending hours waiting in the cold to not buy a television? That's getting-laughed-at-during-your-eulogy stupid.

This is disgusting. Just a bunch of people huddled up on the sidewalk, shivering under blankets with their bodies and smells. And not just regular people. Gross computer people. I wonder if the recent uptick in bed bug infestations has anything to do with the parallel increase in Apple product launches.

Fuck it, I'm staying. If anyone tries to take the last plasma in front of me, I will go absolutely bananas on them. The doors will open and I will go straight for the TVs, and if there aren't enough, then I execute Plan Omega, and go for the back of the legs of someone carrying a TV.

Yeah, that's right. I'm going to start wailing on people because I want to buy a $900 television for $500. Because that's the world we live in. I always thought when we reached the dystopic future there would be some kind of sign, like a robot Pope, or a lot more leather armor.

Ok, reeling my insanity back a couple ticks, there must be another way to whittle this line down a bit. Something that doesn't herald the End of Man.

I bet if I offer to give this guy a backrub, he bolts. There is no way he's got the nerve to stand in front of Crazy Backrub Man for eight more hours.

Unless he does. He might actually be in to it. Dammit. I'm not even very good at backrubs. We'd get halfway through, and he'd totally call me out on my lack of skills, and I'd look like a fool.

I'm definitely glad I brought my good jacket. It is stupid cold tonight. My penis has retracted so far inside my body, that I've got myself pregnant.

Man that would be an ugly baby.

Look at that poor guy over there in the windbreaker. He's going to die, and the birds won't feed on his corpse because they'll be able to smell how dumb he was.

If I ate a ton of asparagus and started peeing around here I bet I could cut this line in half. I bet that's why they don't sell asparagus at street carts. There's probably a municipal bylaw. Some asparagus eating maniac ruined the 1954 Black Friday, and now none of us get hot asparagus snacks.

Hmm. If I make friends with these guys around me, it will make it much easier to betray them. Like I could say I would hold their place in line, and then when they come back I could tell them that I have short term amnesia, and don't remember who they were. "You should have made me tattoo it somewhere," I'd say with a shrug.

Or, I could ask them to hold my place in line, and then I'd go break into their car, and ghost-ride it past them until they left the line to run after me, and then when they're pulling it out of the front window of the Chili's, I'd run back and move up a spot.

That'd be a fun way to get on the news. "PEE-BANDIT WRECKS CHILI'S"

Next year I'm going to come down early and put up a fake sign on the wrong side of the building. It's going to say "Best Buy Black Friday Line Starts Here," and there will be a bunch of arrows and it all leads to a dumpster where I had a good asparagus pee earlier.

I've heard things go insane once the doors open. Pushing, shoving, ball-flicking, everything. I'm a little worried about that one guy back there with the huge bag. I bet he's got a helmet and two baseball bats in there. He's going to start dual wielding baseball bats, and here I am not wearing anything enchanted against bludgeoning.

Lord, I am a nerd. And now I wish I was wearing something enchanted against self-loathing.

Wait, here comes a guy. He's distributing tickets to people in line. I guess that will limit the chances of any two-fisted shopping once inside.

And yes, every single person in front of me is getting the plasma TV. This is just like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, only in this version, Charlie's left outside the gates with a Blu-Ray player, muttering strange ideas about pee. Well, I guess I've only got once choice now.

Yes, he does want a backrub. He's been admiring my hands all night in fact. How bad do I want this TV? - the unspoken question lingers in the air.

Ugh. Argh. Ohh. Oh god, he's making moaning noises. Stop it weird backrub-enjoying dude.

Yeah, this is feeling a lot more like a dystopic future now.


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Chris Bucholz

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