All across the country, retail managers are opening their stores earlier and closing them later. Kids are timing themselves against the refresh button on YouTube in anticipation for the insanity known as Walmart shoppers. Priests are preparing for the confessions of shopaholics (and no, the statue of baby Jesus is not for sale, no matter how good you think it will look next to your resident yard flamingo). Even the turkeys will be grateful they won’t be around to witness consumerism’s visceral degradation. Sound familiar yet? I’m talking about Black Friday of course, and while I cannot deny the few advantages of such a day (like the… well I’ll get back to that. Probably.), I assure you all that it will be a much more exciting endeavor if I focus on the gritty details.

To begin with, what’s behind the dire name, Black Friday, anyway? Technically, it has nothing to do with the color of consumers’ souls, instead acting as a nod towards the business world. The color spectrum of capitalism is rather simple in that it’s a sink or swim mentality: if a business is in the “red,” bankruptcy is a near possibility. But to be in the “black” means a business is doing fiscally well, and because the Friday after Thanksgiving typically brings in record revenue, it takes the name Black Friday as a reminder of the high numbers expected in the log books.

But while the big wigs in the exec offices watch the green roll in, the rest of us are responsible for putting it in their hands. It’s a clever trap, really, the crazy the discount deals that draw in hordes of coupon wielding customers. A retail employee’s worst nightmare is when a coupon fails to ring up and the line is suddenly twenty people deep. Jane from Customer Service is M.I.A., and you’re set to go A.W.O.L. if your mother doesn’t show up to fix all your problems. Being a retail employee myself, I am all too familiar with this deer-in-the-headlights feeling, though in doing so I’ve learned some valuable life lessons:

1. If I never see another coupon again, it will be too soon. There’s fine print for a reason, and if you’re going to use one, please read it. I cannot take 55% off of an item that’s already on sale at 60% because at that rate I’m paying you to take this ugly Christmas sweater off my hands. What’s that? Oh no, I’m sure your son-in-law will love it…
2. When the cashier asks if you want a bag, it’s most likely because she’s hoping you’ll say no. If you really do want a bag for that giant wreath, you’ll have to wait a couple minutes while she figures out how to open a bag the size of a certified parachute. When in doubt, just bring the odd, burly cousin who’s not afraid to wear the wreath out of the store. I mean, that’s what the hole in the middle is for anyway.
3. There really was a method to all of the madness before 5 AM. The books were stacked nicely, clothes folded with care, and employees in a warily content mood. Then the doors opened and reality became an illusion. Go figure. See, every time you dig to the bottom of the barrel and walk away victorious with whatever you’ve found, that employee is victorious too. She gets to clean up your mess instead of dealing with ornery customers.
4.  Lines are inevitable. You should never come to me for math help, but even I can grasp that with six cashiers and one hundred people, someone is going to have to wait. I’ll apologize for the wait, but if crowds of people give you the negative side effects of Viagra – excessive headaches, yelling due to loss of hearing, and limp, dragging appendages – then I highly recommend online shopping.
5. Closing time is not a suggestion. Short of chasing you out with a broom, the employees will do anything to get you to leave (though on Black Friday I would certainly keep an eye out for overtly aggressive shop closers with an inclination for cleaning supplies – you’ll be bound to leave quickly or leave clean).

You’ve been prepped, North Penn. Take heed of my advice, or else be trampled by the thousands waiting to find out their coupons won’t work. It would be foolish to ask you all to stay home and brighten the day of Amazon and eBay employees, so I’ll remind you all to keep your cool. If you don’t, talk in the hallways won’t be about the new iPhone you scored because students will be too busy ticking up the view counter on YouTube, watching you tackle the little old woman who definitely saw that last Chia Pet first. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, North Penn. Have fun and be safe.