Gray Friday

Black Friday did not live up to its hype. The promised insanity consisted of customers asking me where things were.

Wal-Mart had slower than expected sales and blamed a weak economy. I would've chosen to blame the special deals that were meant to lure in customers from 5am to 11am. There were plasma televisions sold at cost, but those were all snapped up by 4am. Other items offered included a mediocre 5 megapixel camera sold for 88 dollars, as opposed to the other 5 megapixel cameras sold for 88 dollars in previous weeks. If that didn't work, the twin-pack of Chutes and Ladders and Monopoly was supposed to be a one-two punch of pure entertainment sure to lure people out before noon.

There was a selection of two dollar DVDs that seemed quite popular. By 7am the cardboard bins were dominated by large veins of Red Heat and Mazes and Monsters, constantly stirred by customers trying to find The Hulk.

I will tell you this: There is no book to be had about working at Wal-Mart. Which is a shame, because it ruins my plan to pretend I'm a respected author, diving into the sordid world of retail to gather a slew of poignant slice-of-life stories, excerpted over weekends on NPR. I've always fancied my voice has the idiosyncrasies that they look for.

As it is, I'll have to get a truly terrible job if I want to bluff my way into the sordid world of nonfiction.