Antonio Zaragoza, Editor in Chief

Let me start by saying working retail at San Diego’s busiest mall on Black Friday is one of the worst things anybody could do to themself. Strictly speaking, if you are able to avoid it, I assure you, you’ll be better off. There should be public service announcements letting people know of the misery awaiting someone who chooses to work on this holiest of shopping days.

For the most part, working a retail job of any type isn’t that difficult. Typically, you’re selling clothes or shoes or something of that nature and for the most part, people are normal if not needy. I don’t know exactly what happens, but on Black Friday, the contemporary norms of society are completely thrown out the window and our more “primitive” rules of existence take over. People change and sometimes, it can be frightening to watch.

Just who are these mobs of people that find it prudent to wake at 3 in the morning and prepare for a day of gladiator-like shopping extravaganza? Is it really the sales, two-for-one specials and holiday music that gets people’s juices flowing? I never seem to personally know anyone brave enough to go to the malls on Black Friday, let alone step outside of the house. But there they are, thousands upon thousands of crazies, venturing out into the wild, wild world of commerce, speeding full throttle into the belly of American Consumerism.

I can see their faces now. Glossy-eyed, well-groomed, over-caffeinated shoppers, circling about the mall parking lots like vultures looking for a fresh carcass to pick through. Much can be said about these adventurous people. With nerves of steal, they purposefully venture out into the mayhem for reasons unbeknownst to us mere mortals.

I’ve seen grown adults fight over a single cable-knit sweater on sale. I’ve seen men fistfight for a parking spot. Black Friday exemplifies to me exactly what is wrong with our society and the holidays in general. I think we have all forgotten the holidays are supposed to be a time to come together as friends, families and communities to enjoy the festive season. But every year, the malls open a little earlier, the sales run a little deeper and we all become a bit crazier.

Leonardo Castaneda, Opinion Editor

When people think about Black Friday, they usually think about long lines and suffocating crowds pushing their way toward the latest and greatest gadgets on sale. Surely this is true for Wal-Mart or Best Buy, but not at the bookstore where I worked.

For my first Black Friday experience, I physically and mentally prepared myself for the onslaught of vicious shoppers. I meditated, did calisthenics and found clothes with maximum angry customer-dodging design. Finally, the store opened its doors—about an hour earlier than thee usual 10 a.m.—and I bravely faced the awaited mob. Yet the only people who came through that door were a half dozen suburban moms in track suits and multiple shopping bags in hand. They weren’t coming for the few deals on books and movies. They came to use our restroom and reload with a caramel latte from our coffee shop.

It’s not that people weren’t buying books at all. To paraphrase Mark Twain, rumors of the brick-and-mortar bookstores’ demise are greatly exaggerated. People still go to the store and buy books. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, I’ve seen it. Personally, I need to physically hold a book before I buy it. However, books aren’t exactly what people hunt for during Black Friday. Give us the release of the last book in the Harry Potter series and we will shine with long lines of die-hard fans waiting for the clock to strike midnight and the doors to swing open. But for all the furor it causes, no one has (or will ever) pushed, elbowed or kicked their way to a copy of “Fifty Shades of Grey.” No one just absolutely must have the Steve Jobs biography this second and bookstores won’t run out of copies of “The Hunger Games” before you can get it for the awkward niece you don’t know very well.

At the end of the day, I’ll admit I was disappointed. I didn’t leave Black Friday morning with battle scars and stories of vicious stampedes. I did see more people out in public in their pajamas in the middle of the day than I ever hope to see again, but overall, the psychological trauma was kept at a minimum. I won’t be working this Black Friday, but if I decide I need a safe place to sit back and watch the spectacle, I know just the bookstore to visit.

Kevin Smead, Entertainment Editor

This will be my first Black Friday not working in four years and honestly, I’m a bit sad. This may sound absolutely crazy, but I love Black Friday. As a manager at a GameStop for way too long (counting in years, here), I had to take pleasure in the finer points, even if those were just being able to act less-than-cordially to customers for one day out of the year.

You’d never know it by shopping there, but GameStop hounds its employees about customer service so much it ends up having a sort of reverse psychology effect. Black Friday is the one day when the bigwigs let everyone off the chain, not so subtly implying, “We don’t care, as long as we make money.”

And oh, what a day it is.

You know how in “Breaking Bad,” (fifth season, most specifically) the methylamine must always continue to flow? The same principle is applied to the line during Black Friday.

It stops for nothing—not system trades, not angry mothers and certainly not the children of those angry mothers who think 10 is a perfectly acceptable age to start playing the “Gears of War” franchise.

On Black Friday, you can tell the crazed parent who’s accusing you (not the company, not the supplier: you; the person immediately in front of them) of not having the one particular Skylander figurine they were looking for, to get out of the way, while motioning for the next person in line to step forward.

Watch for the retail gladiators, willing to fight to the death just to save $10. They’re confrontational, usually irrational and never friendly. Their tactics are deceitful, too. Be on your toes for the tears, bargaining and, “I have kids to shop for, so I deserve this more than you do.”

I’ve found the best strategy is just to hit them back with a thumbs-up and a, “Cool story, bro.” They generally huff and puff until they realize they won’t get their way. At this point, they generally leave.

So, when you’re out shopping this Black Friday, please be nice to the employees and they’ll be nice back to you. Like I said, I love Black Friday and all its consumerist glory (I can just hear the commentary from George A. Romero, Don DeLillo, Chuck Palahniuk, et al.). For every 6 a.m. chucklehead, there’s a 6:01 a.m. rad dude.

Remember, Black Friday is a sport. Don’t play fair (that’s for chumps), but be sure to play nice. Happy hunting!