If there was one thing I wanted to do this Thanksgiving, it was spend money. As a matter of fact, the only services I wanted in exchange for my goods was a line to stand in, an employee to hand my debit card off to, have it swiped, and then be able to say “Thank you good sir!” as I continued to march directly out the exit.

Naturally, I wanted the best deal. So I scanned the newspaper ads that Thursday night only to find that one particular store remained completely unmentioned. Realizing that this unpublicized location would certainly be my best bet for holiday deals, I decided it was time to don my gay apparel (i.e. my layers of five jackets) and head out the door.

Luckily for me, it seemed like this was going to be a Black Friday to remember, as I appeared to be the only one in line at Circuit City.

“Haha, suckers!” I laughed confidently, knowing that I was able to be first in line and to top it off only had to arrive six hours beforehand to do so. “Now it’s time to play the waiting game!” I yelled, pulling out my lawn chair and proceeding to twiddle my thumbs.

This confidence however did come with a certain amount of suspicion. It seemed strange to me that the Circuit City logo above the building had been completely removed and replaced by a tattered “Halloween Superstore” banner. In addition to this, the employees appeared to be dressed somewhat over-casual in black plastic bags, and I found it disconcerting that they were keeping all of their belongings in shopping carts, smelled like cat food, and were huddled around a trashcan fire.

“Hey kid, did you know the government stole my kidney?” one asked with a crazy eye.

I responded with a hearty laugh. Black Friday lines always involved a certain amount of dark humor, and even though I was in for the deal of a lifetime, this line was clearly no exception.

I was disappointed however to find that all the doorbuster shelves were completely empty, except for one that appeared to have a week old dead rat.

It seemed that this year, there simply wasn’t anything to waste my money on. Depressed, I returned home to learn on Wikipedia that Circuit City went bankrupt long before I had ever arrived. As I hung my head down depressed, I knew I must have missed out on an amazing liquidation sale.

The sun was only just rising, and I had completely let down the American public and economy by failing to play my part on Black Friday. This was worse than the time I mistakenly waited in line at Kids R Us instead of Toys R Us. I wondered what Sacagawea would say had I been one of the first pilgrims who failed to buy a robotic hamster toy on the day after the first Thanksgiving. I couldn’t let it happen. I hopped back in the car and made my way to the nearest toy store.

I was at the tail end of the line, but I was in a line nonetheless. As we entered the store together I was in a haze of confusion. I was astounded by the fact that once again, there was nothing I wanted to buy. Then I came across a stuffed animal Koala that reminded me of Beth. Thinking of her, I remembered what gifts were supposed to do: let people know that you’re thinking of them. It wasn’t on sale, and had been sitting on the shelf for what appeared to be months, but as the check out lady asked me if it was worth waiting in line all morning for, I was surprised to find myself saying, “Yes.”

It really was.