“Get out of that parking spot, ya jerk!!”

At last night’s blogging event, I was chatting with a group of bloggers and readers, and during our conversation – which involved battling holiday mall traffic – I recalled an anecdote of how I got some sweet revenge for those who are too impatient for a parking spot.

Black Friday, 2007.  This was essentially the last “Black Friday” in which I willingly chose to spend the night in the Best Buy parking lot at Crossgates Mall.  Let me start the story by describing first how my DAY went.  I started the morning delivering turkey dinners and Thanksgiving cheer as part of the Equinox Thanksgiving Dinner charity delivery – I think that day I delivered dinners to Arbor Hill and the South End.

Afterward, I was supposed to go with my wife to visit her family in Niskayuna for Thanksgiving dinner.  But as I drove past Crossgates Mall – and this was at 3:00 p.m. on Thursday afternoon – I could see there were already about 20 people waiting at the front entrance of Best Buy.  That’s right.  They were there 14 hours before the store would open its doors.  There must have been some magic in those $299 laptops they found…

I actually had my eye on a $399 Sony VAIO laptop (which I knew would need some upgrades in memory and hard drive), as well as a choice price for a TomTom GPS and some memory sticks, so I arrived at the family Thanksgiving dinner, inhaled the food faster than Joey Chestnut on the 4th of July, and burned rubber back to Crossgates.  I estimated that when I arrived in the Crossgates Mall parking lot, I was person #32 in line.

And I stayed there in line for the next 13 hours.  Okay, Crossgates did allow people to leave the line for a few moments for bathroom breaks, and Hot Dog Charlie’s in the food court opened up to sell hot dogs and coffee.  Nice.  A person from Best Buy walked down the line with mimeographed sheets – each sheet corresponded to a doorbuster item; X number of sheets for X number of items.  I got my mitts on the Sony VAIO laptop sheet.  Swank.

At 5:00 a.m., the doors opened, and we surged forward in a sea of tired-but-desperate shoppers.  I grabbed the TomTom GPS out of a basket, and snagged the Sony VAIO right next to it.  I picked up a few other items – memory sticks, some recordable CD’s, etc.  – and then waited in line for about 90 minutes for someone to ring me out.

How I made it out of Best Buy with my sanity, I still don’t know.  While I was in line, I started contemplating a scheme where I would get even with Best Buy next year – I planned on doing my own version of the Christmas Club, in that I would purchase $25 Best Buy gift cards whenever I had the chance; and by this time next year, I would have about $1,500 in Best Buy gift cards – all in $25 denominations – and I would watch with glee as the cashier had to ring in EVERY SINGLE GIFT CARD.

Well, it’s a good thing I never went through with that plan – especially if I had substituted the words “Circuit City” for “Best Buy.”  That would have been a serious waste of money on my part.

But I digress.

One of the advantages of parking early on Black Friday (or half-asleep Thursday) is that you get a very swank parking spot.  Sure you do.  You’re there when the rest of the parking lot is empty.  So it’s just a few short steps from the front door of Best Buy to the front door of my old Pontiac 6000.

I loaded the car up with my holiday treasures.  As I was putting the gifts in the car, I noticed that someone – I believe he was driving a Nissan something-or-other – had driven into the parking area, and was only short distance away from my parking spot.  Okay, I thought.  He wants my spot, if he can wait a second he can have it.

I continued putting things in the car.  Next thing I know, I hear a honking horn.

I look up.  It’s the Nissan.

“Hold on a second,” I mumbled.

Next thing I know, the driver rolls down his side window.

“Hey, get out of that parking spot!” he shouts at me.

Now that’s not going to make me get out of that parking spot any faster…

“Just give me a second,” I called back.

“Come on, I want to go shopping!! Get out of that parking spot, ya jerk!!!”

Ears perked up.  Because, in all honesty, he did not use the word “jerk.”  He used a seven letter word that starts with “A” and ends with “HOLE” and I’m not interested in testing the TU no-cursing blog filter right now.

But when I heard the driver’s latest demands, there were several things I could have done at that moment.

I could have (A) meekly entered my car, started the ignition, and drove off.

I could have (B) gotten into a road-rage battle with this clown – maybe flipped him the bird or questioned his parentage.

I could have (C) phoned mall security and let them know that this chowderhead was hassling me in the parking lot.

I could have done either one of those things.

Instead, I chose to do (D).

And (D) is when I finish packing my purchases into my car, close the car doors – lock them – AND WALK BACK INTO THE MALL TO GET SOME BLACK FRIDAY BREAKFAST.  The clod driving the Nissan looked as if I had violated some ancient parking lot credo – you know, the one that goes, “Once you go to your car, you need to drive away.”

Well, see, I went with the other credo, that says, “Don’t piss me off on Black Friday.  It might make we want to shop more – or maybe I’ll just do some window-shopping instead.  He he he he he…”

About 30 minutes later, I went back to my car.  The blowhard in the Nissan was gone.  As I unlocked my Pontiac to climb in, I saw someone pull up, anticipating the vacancy of my parking spot.  It was a Chevrolet.  Once the Chevy driver saw that I was getting in my car, he backed up a bit – so as to give me clearance to back out of my parking spot and drive safely away.

I pulled out of the parking spot, waved at him, he waved back, and as I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw him guide his Chevy into the spot previously held by a Pontiac 6000.

And such is the truth.  We’re all shopping on one of the craziest sales days out there.  Let’s not make it crazier by fighting for parking spots.  I don’t need my blood pressure elevated, and my Saturn Ion does not need any parking lot dents in it.  ‘Kay?