Am I allowed to be a woman in America if I hate Black Friday?

Why is it not okay for me to hate shopping?  I am a minority among American women.  I hide behind my closed doors and curtains and peek out with trepidation at the throngs of people rushing to the stores hoping they don't notice me.  I used to openly share about my serious aversions to shopping and the shudders that the very idea of the black Friday frenzy brings on.  But I quickly learned that one can more easily discuss their hemorrhoid surgery than to dare denigrate the alter of the sacred deep discount deal.

When people ask me about my black Friday shopping plans I quickly change the subject and whip out a pre prepared and especially adorable picture of the grandkids as a distraction.   Occasionally I run across someone who won't be distracted and I am forced to break into song and dance.  It is not pretty but I gotta do what I gotta do.  The idea of willingly walking into a mall causes me to sweat and break out in boils.

I admit to being occasionally tempted by one of the prices.  Okay.  I am.  But then all I have to do is see the time that the deal starts and picture myself standing in the cold, in line, with aggressive shoppers to my right and to my left and the first light of dawn still hours in the future and it becomes an easy thing to resist.  About as easy as resisting a root canal.

Now I have shocked you all.  I have probably lost friends and will be shortly removed from certain social circles.  The freedom of confession is worth it but the worst is yet to come.

Sometime ask me about how I feel about hair salons.