On Black Friday, 34-year-old Jdimytai Damour never knew what hit him. Frankly, that’s not even Wal-Mart’s fault. Damour was working at a Long Island, NY Wal-Mart when the doors opened at 5:00 to allow shoppers into the store to begin the Christmas Shopping Season. Throngs of bargain-seekers clamored through the doors when they opened and Mr. Damour’s life came to a very abrupt and tragic end.
There is only one word in the English language that even comes close to describing this incident: stupid.
It isn’t Damour’s fault, he was doing the job he was told to do. It isn’t Wal-Mart’s fault, they were just trying to make their money, like every other store that opens at the God-awful hours of 4 and 5 in the morning. No, the fault of Damour’s death lies squarely on the shoulders of the idiotic morons who stampeded through the doors of the store in order to by a 50” flat screen television so they could impress their friends at next year’s Super Bowl party.
The Friday after Thanksgiving is called Black Friday because that is the day most retailers finally make enough profit to cover all their losses throughout the year and they can begin operating in the black. Steep discounts for merchandise are what draw people to participate in this American “running of the bulls.” Saving money is what it is all about. Get to the store early so you can get that big TV or that hot new video game system or whatever else it is you want before someone else gets it. What a way to live.
Personally, I hate commercial Christmas. Don’t confuse that with Christmas. I love Christmas. I grew up where there is supposed to be snow on the ground, the temperature reaches a high of 20 degrees Fahrenheit and there’s a big fire in the fireplace. Sure there’s presents under a tree, the house has more lights on it than the runways at Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport and Christmas music all around. But that’s Christmas. I’m talking about Commercial Christmas where every store in town has Christmas decorations up the day after the Fourth of July and keeps them up until the day before Valentine’s Day. Commercial Christmas has people clamoring through stores and malls looking for that “just right” gift to give to that persnickety mother-in-law who couldn’t utter a kind word about her not-good-enough-for-my-son, daughter-in-law. Commercial Christmas turns otherwise mild-mannered citizens into raging animals capable of committing random acts of brutal violence in an attempt to secure some worthless piece of electronic equipment made in a country that doesn’t even celebrate Christmas.
Beginning the day after Thanksgiving, I hole up in my house and venture out only when required to sojourn to my place of employment and to return to my domicile when I have fulfilled my commitment to providing eight hours of unappreciated labor for an amount of money equivalent to a proverbial kick in the crotch.
I avoid stores that do not exclusively sell foodstuffs. As much as I like Wal-Mart, I avoid Super Wal-Marts during Christmas as if these places were leper colonies. I just go in to get what I need to survive that week. I’m not there to buy a big screen TV; I don’t care if you arrived first, just shut the hell up and leave me alone and let me buy my bread, peanut butter, toilet paper and orange juice. And quit coughing on me you inconsiderate imbecile – I don’t want or need your sinus infection. Tell your bratty little mini-me’s to quit kicking my shopping cart because if you don’t, I’m going to pick them up and toss them head first into the two-for-five-dollar DVD bins and then probably launch you into the hanging bicycle rack. I have no patience for Christmas shoppers. They are most often rude. Their eyes are open wide like they are some crazed zombie searching for human flesh. They drool at the “45% Off” sale racks and they howl like hyenas at anyone who comes within 250 yards of “their” parking spot.
These are the kinds of people who stepped on Jdimytai Damour in Long Island. Correction, these are the animals who trampled Jdimytai Damour to death because they were only thinking of themselves. No one even stopped to help Damour. They went on their way looking for their bargains. Even reports coming out of Long Island, NY say that the store was closed due to the incident and that people who were waiting outside for paramedics to bring out Damour’s body were upset that they weren’t being allowed to go in and shop. Talk about cold, cruel and heartless. They’re more worried about not being able to buy an X-Box than they are the fact that their selfishness brought a tragic end to an innocent man’s life.
I’m more than justified in hating Commercial Christmas. The violent death of Jdimytai Damour is just another reason. Why would any sane human being want to be involved in that kind of crap? If I can’t buy it when it’s convenient for me, it isn’t worth having.