I put on my Batsuit: the red polo, khakis, and name tag while the turkey was still turning in my stomach. It was my first time working Target’s opening shift on Black Friday.
“Slow down!” my comrades called out to the 300 plus shoppers pouring through the sliding doors at midnight. They were sprinting towards the marked-down flat-screens and video game consoles, uninhibited by my coworkers’ pleas. Something was missing: these weren’t the vicious, cold, deal-seeking demons I day-dreamed about. No one was maced.
Among the manic runners was a social gathering: family and friends embracing just hours post pumpkin pie. While my hands scanned the customer’s finds, I was met with smiling strangers’ “Happy Holidays! and “How was your Thanksgiving’s?”
The place cleared out at 2. Twelve cashiers stood motionless in their lanes like orphaned puppies at a kill shelter. There was still six hours left in my shift. I made it through thanks to the Target brand cereal and milk I scarfed during my 15-minute 3AM break. Around 5, we were treated to a Panera catered spread of bagels, muffins, pastries, and egg soufflés. It was better than any anniversary! Chanukah come early!