October, November and December are my favorite months of the year. Free candy from generous strangers, an extravagant feast with family, and lavishing presents under the tree paired with the ever popular holiday beverages, tacky sweaters, and festive decorations; what’s not to love?
I even love Black Friday, the one time of year when stores open their doors at midnight with incredible sales and outrageous deals to hundreds of crazed, coupon cutting, customers.
Most people would assume that this would be my rant about how crazy Black Friday is and how out of the four major holidays towards the end year, Black Friday resembles dirty, deranged Uncle Jim who sits in the corner, drunk and yelling at the kids at every family gathering. Every family has an Uncle Jim but regardless, they still love him anyways.
When I think of Black Friday, I’m reminiscing about silly traditions my family used to partake in when I was younger.
I think of how my parents would bundle my sister and me up in layers after layers of jackets, scarves, gloves, and hats.
I remember standing in line when the moon was up and the stars were out, eyes bright with excitement and nose dripping with snot.
And I think of the warm, delicious, pancakes we would get at McDonald’s after a job well done. Coming from an Asian household, being allowed to eat McDonald’s is a major reward. Trust me.
My dad would always show me what he hoped to grab and I would try my best to remember what it looked like.
I figured, since I was small and fairly cute at the time, and my dad did so much for me every day, I could tunnel my way through all the grown-ups and snatch whatever it was that he wanted for him.
Even when I got older and Black Friday became more of a tradition among my friends, it was still exciting to me.
Walking around, feeling accomplished, with a big bag of stuff that you just saved a busload of money on, your eyes sore and your feet probably screaming in protest but it’s a euphoric feeling. Retail therapy at it’s best.
It’s the scary, outrageous stories that give Black Friday a bad name. I’ve heard stories about people getting killed at Walmart because they got trampled to death. People camp out in the freezing weather all night to hit up the biggest sales. Pick pocketing is at an all time high, injuries beyond your wildest dreams, and there’s hundreds of people where there shouldn’t be. My friends have told me that they would get elbowed in the face and pushed and shoved in all different directions if they stood in the wrong spot. People can get crazy. I myself have experienced the psychos and lunatics but I still enjoy myself on Black Friday the best that I can.
 I mean sure, the ridiculously long lines and the almost scary number of people who turn up is annoying but to me, but it’s all a part of the experience.
I know this probably makes me sound like one of those overexcited, insane people who start decorating their house in July, singing Christmas carols in February, and finding their Halloween costume over spring break, but holidays are a blessing in disguise. Just enjoy it.