Black Friday
I believe this is what is known as a love-hate relationship
At my core, I find the concept of Black Friday as jarring today as I did when I was an adolescent and my mom explained it to me as we went to the Paramus Park Mall in New Jersey, having celebrated Thanksgiving at my paternal grandparents’ the day before. Admittedly, malls in the 80’s were pretty epic and I think I enjoyed that day. But didn’t it seem slightly incongruous to spend a day feasting and intentionally giving thanks for what we already had, and then the very next day turn around and scour the racks of any number of mall stores (there was no internet shopping in my day, kids) for more?
Still does.
But sales.
Need I say more?
All the same, I probably would have ignored Black Friday for the rest of my life—or at least until I married Paul, who strategizes for sales every year—if it hadn’t been for my five and a half year stint at Starbucks. I worked at that place during the seam-era between People Camping Out at Best Buy to Catch the Sales as soon as they opened, and Malls Closing Down Because Everyone’s Shopping Online. Our store was really close to the local Best Buy, so as soon as the early birds got the stuff they had been camping out for, they’d usually head on over to us and we’d warm them up with caffeinated beverages. Everyone was in a good mood, chattering happily with total strangers about their finds and the great prices.
I know there are lots of significant problems with capitalism, and I have a very uneasy relationship with it, but maybe sometimes we can just take an experience at face value for a minute. At face value, Black Friday morning at Starbucks in the aughts was a festive, cheery, red-and-white, sweet-warm-spicy drink sipping time with people from surprisingly all walks of life being happy and friendly together. I liked it.
Usually just before leaving my shift that day, I would make myself an eggnog latte and head to a mall myself, even though there wasn’t usually anything I needed or even wanted, and at the time I didn’t exactly have a lot of people I was buying for. I just usually wanted to get a quick taste of the chaos as a consumer (maybe) instead of a purveyor, and then I would go home and decorate my house for Christmas.
Then I got married and a lot of my personal traditions from long years as a single woman changed, but last year I was out and about on Black Friday anyway, for reasons I have now forgotten, and I knew I was going to be going past a Starbucks, so I pulled into the parking lot for a little nostalgic treat.
I walked into the store. There was no one in line. This Starbucks is near lots of stores but not lots of stores all grouped together in a mall. And no one camps out in front of stores for sales anymore. “Hi!” I said to the barista. “Can I please get a tall eggnog latte?”
“Oh,” she said. “We don’t have eggnog anymore. It’s not safe. Because of the egg.”
My face fell. Back in my day if people asked for their eggnog latte extra hot, we told them the egg in the nog would get scrambled, and they usually already knew that because of the last Starbucks that had told them that. Then we would make it for them and take a little extra time cleaning the steam wand, and everyone would go on with their day. As for any other orders involving eggnog, well—you either love or hate eggnog, probably, and if you love it, you know what you’re getting into.
“Okay,” I said, avoiding mentioning any of the above so as not to sound like one of those entitled know-it-all customers who used to give us all fits when I was a barista. “Well, I’ll just get a tall coffee then.” I remembered that since covid, even Starbucks customers can’t put their own dairy product in their coffee, so I added, “Extra milk please. Whole milk is good.” Then I noticed another treat-y favorite of mine from days of yore. Maybe I could somewhat redeem this failing attempt at tradition revisitation.
“And also,” I said triumphantly, “can I please get one of those glazed donuts, and can you heat it up in the oven?”
The barista face registered something that reminded me a little of terror. “Oh no!” she said. “We can’t heat those up! The sugar will burn!”
Listen, child, I wanted to say. I was there when they first installed ovens at Starbucks, and we put in there whatever the heck food we wanted. There was something really galling not only about having my two requests denied, but also about arcane insider information about how Starbucks used to work making so little impression on this fledgling.
I ended up ordering the donut anyway, but I’m not sure why. The barista was not that intimidating, and there is really no point to a Starbucks glazed donut that is at room temperature or, even worse, cold. The coffee was a little chilly, too. I don’t think I’ll try to recreate my Black Friday tradition this year. Or ever again, probably. But I could make myself coffee with eggnog in it at home, and still decorate the house for Christmas.
As for Black Friday as a shopping bonanza…well, at this point, I’m not sure what the difference is between it and its spinoffs, Cyber Monday and Giving Tuesday. (I also find it interesting and significant that Giving Tuesday is the last on the list—presumably in case you still have some loose change after all the capitalism.) But anyway, in spite of my genuine cynicism about the whole operation, I find myself participating in all three this year, and so I guess I’ll tell you about them.
Black Friday
Winter Solace is coming, and I’ve done this before, but not recently: If you would like to attend and 25% off the ticket price would help you, please don’t hesitate to use the code BLKFRI when you register below. It expires at midnight on Friday but you can actually use it already.
Cyber Monday
I was going to make a sale for Black Friday at The Art Trundle as well, but apparently Etsy is doing a Cyber Monday sale that I can “join,” so let’s just do that. And actually…it starts on Black Friday and runs through December 4th so…whatever it is, everything in my shop is also 25% off if you use code CYBER2024. This includes a few Christmas decor items and Favored One, my novel about Miryam, mother of Yeshua, which everyone who’s read it says is especially great to read at this time of year.
Giving Tuesday
The Pilgrimage is a nonprofit organization assisting people deconstructing from a corrupted faith to hang onto Jesus, and (hopefully more and more) assisting churches to grow in compassion for and understanding of this population, and able to be places of healing, too. Although most of our programs cost money, I offer frequent discounts as need arises, and our groups are small, so most of the money that allows me to do what I do (and pay the occasional collaborator) comes from donations of kind people like you. Please do consider becoming part of this work by joining the Pilgrimage Outfitters by signing up for recurring donations, or making a generous end of year gift. Thank you.
And have a very happy Thanksgiving. I am so grateful for your presence here.