Andyland, USA

By the time Thanksgiving had ended last year I found myself faced with two situations. One, that I had spent the night at my Aunt's house without planing to do so. Two, that the family collectively asked me if I would do their Black Friday shopping for them. Granted, they didn't so much “ask” as much as “shove a list into my hands and write checks.” I had spend most of last Thanksgiving, and the night before it, at my Aunt’s house in Morristown. I returned home to do the shopping and to, hopefully, catch a moderate amount of sleep. I was given the list at 6:45 in the evening. I left shortly after seven, and considering traffic, I made it home around 8:30. I’m not one who can just fall into bed and sleep, I have to wind down a bit, there’s the also the fact I have a touch of the family insomnia that kicks up from time to time. In this situation I also had to unpack and put away all the gear I took to my Aunt’s. I finally had everything done and put away by 9:15. In m...

Support for “Batteries Not Included” comes from The Andrew W. Ross Foundation for Chickens That Don't Understand the Music of Paul McCarney, The American Board for the Furtherance of the American Board Tomorrow Today, The Flood Cleaning Frog Team Fund, and Readers Like You. Thank you. Many people don't know how big an impact the yearly tradition of Black Friday shopping made on the American family in the early 2000s. Houses were divided against each other on which store to go to. Backwater Walmarts all over the south broke out in civil shopping wars, and untold millions was caused in damage. Postal workers developed gangrene after being trapped under mounds of packages for months and months. Recently, a letter from a husband to his wife, written from inside a big box department store, was discovered. We hope in presenting it that it sheds light on what it was like to shop on Black Friday. My Dearest Delilah, I don't know when I shall see you again my love....