Black Friday was never for me.
Or my wife.
So I thought.
When it comes to shopping of any kind, I'm a hit-and-run guy.
I get what I need and get out.
The exception is when Sherri and I are grocery shopping at Publix.
Our Friday night date, I like to call it.
Sometimes it's Saturday morning.
Whenever, it takes us awhile and I'm OK with that.
It's spending quality time together.
Or something like that.
But Black Friday?
When I hear friends gush about their experiences waiting on long lines outside a store in the wee hours before crashing the place to scoop up deals on who-knows-what, I just shake my head.
That is not for me.
Which is why I was amused when Sherri said she and her mother were going to join countless other Manatee County folks in this week's nocturnal shopping madness.
They've got a bead on one store that's got some great discounts on items of family interest and are gearing up to do their thing Thursday night.
Since the family is coming to our place for the traditional meal, we could be having Thanksgiving lunch.
When Sherri asked if I wanted to go along, I said no thanks.
She has Friday off.
So I'll be sleeping.