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Black Friday Madness
26/11/11 09:17Perhaps I don't get the whole Rampant Consumerism thing; I am fond of buying cool stuff, and I love a bargain as much as the next sane person. But pepper spraying your fellow shoppers to keep them away from the X-Boxes?. Fist fights over Victoria's Secret yoga pants? Get a grip, people.
Meanwhile, at Casa Madeleine, we had our own teeny little Black Friday excitement (fortunately without body count): Avocado had her adorable friend V over for Thanksgiving dinner (her parents are Chinese immigrants, and don't do American holidays, so she comes here for turkey). V had arranged to go Black Friday shopping downtown with friends (Avocado had work on Friday, and thus did not succumb to the madness) and would then return here with her spoils for a sleepover. She asked for a curfew. I said 2am. V goes off with friends, communicates with Avocado that she left her cell-phone at the other friend's house, but she'll be back here by 2am (and A had given her a key, so other than the dog barking furiously, we would not be aware of her return. Right).
Avocado had a hard time going to sleep, so I wound up talking with her until about 1am. Then I come downstairs in the happy belief that V will come home, let herself in, and all will be well. You see where this is going, right? I wake up at 5:30, go up to check and see if V is there...and she's not. I've got someone else's kid blowing curfew in my house. I try to call her, but of course she doesn't have her cell-phone. I go back to bed, somewhat anxiously. Round about 7:30 I am awakened by the spouse pottering around getting ready for work (not just working on Friday, but Saturday and Sunday this week. Argh). I go up to check: still no V. I leave another message on the cell-phone that V doesn't have access to. Go down and check with Spouse, who suggests I look at Avocado's cell phone to see if she's got a phone number for the friend V was shopping with. The sound of me touching her cell-phone wakes Avocado up, and her first question (after "what are you doing touching my phone!) is, Where's V. I explain, and Avocado, in devastatingly mature mode, call's V's friend and asks to talk to V.
The conversation, one-sided as it was, was wonderful. "Are you okay? Hon, it's 7:30, you were supposed to be-- Well, sure, I was asleep, but my parents! Of course they were worried, hon. Well, when can you be home? Okay, okay. See you soon."
Apparently V had finished her shopping by 1:30, but friend, in the spell of rampant consumerism, refused to leave. And friend had the car; BART doesn't run at 1:30 in the morning. So the poor kid had to follow her friend into Macy's and Urban Outfitters and every other store on Powell Street, shlepping her bags and getting progressively more exhausted.
V got back here at about 8:30, with her reclaimed cell-phone and many bags. By this time Avocado was up, getting ready for work at the Children's Creativity Museum (everyone who wasn't shopping was apparently at CCM yesterday). So, like a shift change, she got up and got ready to go while V fell over. I had to take Sarcasm Girl and the Beau to Dickens' Fair, where they are playing low-life London scum for four weekends, and when I got back I ferried Avocado to work. And V, cuddled up with a happy dog, slept until 5pm.
At least there was no pepper spray.
--and A was getting tweets all day from Occupy SF and Occupy Oakland, and was all viva la
Meanwhile, at Casa Madeleine, we had our own teeny little Black Friday excitement (fortunately without body count): Avocado had her adorable friend V over for Thanksgiving dinner (her parents are Chinese immigrants, and don't do American holidays, so she comes here for turkey). V had arranged to go Black Friday shopping downtown with friends (Avocado had work on Friday, and thus did not succumb to the madness) and would then return here with her spoils for a sleepover. She asked for a curfew. I said 2am. V goes off with friends, communicates with Avocado that she left her cell-phone at the other friend's house, but she'll be back here by 2am (and A had given her a key, so other than the dog barking furiously, we would not be aware of her return. Right).
Avocado had a hard time going to sleep, so I wound up talking with her until about 1am. Then I come downstairs in the happy belief that V will come home, let herself in, and all will be well. You see where this is going, right? I wake up at 5:30, go up to check and see if V is there...and she's not. I've got someone else's kid blowing curfew in my house. I try to call her, but of course she doesn't have her cell-phone. I go back to bed, somewhat anxiously. Round about 7:30 I am awakened by the spouse pottering around getting ready for work (not just working on Friday, but Saturday and Sunday this week. Argh). I go up to check: still no V. I leave another message on the cell-phone that V doesn't have access to. Go down and check with Spouse, who suggests I look at Avocado's cell phone to see if she's got a phone number for the friend V was shopping with. The sound of me touching her cell-phone wakes Avocado up, and her first question (after "what are you doing touching my phone!) is, Where's V. I explain, and Avocado, in devastatingly mature mode, call's V's friend and asks to talk to V.
The conversation, one-sided as it was, was wonderful. "Are you okay? Hon, it's 7:30, you were supposed to be-- Well, sure, I was asleep, but my parents! Of course they were worried, hon. Well, when can you be home? Okay, okay. See you soon."
Apparently V had finished her shopping by 1:30, but friend, in the spell of rampant consumerism, refused to leave. And friend had the car; BART doesn't run at 1:30 in the morning. So the poor kid had to follow her friend into Macy's and Urban Outfitters and every other store on Powell Street, shlepping her bags and getting progressively more exhausted.
V got back here at about 8:30, with her reclaimed cell-phone and many bags. By this time Avocado was up, getting ready for work at the Children's Creativity Museum (everyone who wasn't shopping was apparently at CCM yesterday). So, like a shift change, she got up and got ready to go while V fell over. I had to take Sarcasm Girl and the Beau to Dickens' Fair, where they are playing low-life London scum for four weekends, and when I got back I ferried Avocado to work. And V, cuddled up with a happy dog, slept until 5pm.
At least there was no pepper spray.
--and A was getting tweets all day from Occupy SF and Occupy Oakland, and was all viva la