Sometimes I am still haunted by that endless loop of Christmas music ringing in my ears. It was the early 2000s, I was a student and I got a job working in a department store for the holiday season. I needed the money to buy gifts, so I spent hours every day folding sweaters. And then there was my nightmarish first day of work: Black Friday.
Legend has it that Black Friday got its name because it was the day that retail businesses crossed the threshold of profitability for the calendar year (passing from“red ink” into “black ink” in their accounting books). But the reality is much darker than that. Never have I felt closer to the line dividing civilization from barbarism then the time I saw two grandmothers arguing over who was going to save 25 percent on the last pair of jeans.
Until now, that is.
27. Nov 2020 at 16:51 | Benjamin Cunningham