Moms chased after their kids high on the prospect of so many new toys. Dads pushed their way toward electronics, anxious and determined to snatch up the best deal on tablets and televisions. My brother darted the way of the dads, my mom and dad marched toward the toys, and I stood there, dumbfounded, as strangers bumped into me, not shy of the curse words they used. To my left, the customer service desk swarmed with people blasting complaints and swinging ad fliers in the air. The kid's clothing section on the opposite side was jam packed with people flipping through hangers so fast I didn't think they even saw what decorated each piece of clothing. The main aisle in front of me, which led to the sporting goods area in the back of the store, displayed pallets of sale items. I couldn't remember what I even stood in line for. Why did I devote time in my day to stand in a line waiting to buy something? The answer was, though I may not have been acting like it at the moment, I was one of the crazy people.
