Early Bird Special
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Authors: Tracy Krimmer
Early Bird Special
A Short Story
By Tracy Krimmer
Copyright 2014 by Tracy Krimmer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For Andy, my Blue Light Special
CHAPTER ONE
The frigid air sliced through my jacket and ripped across my chest. I scolded myself for not packing a thermos of hot chocolate. What sort of event planner forgot something like that? Me, that's who. Known to the community as Francie A. Spiller, The Planning Princess, I never overlooked the little things. Need a pen? Grab one - I stocked up on thirty. Spill wine on your favorite dress? I keep salt and a mini bottle of water in my purse. If someone needed it, The Planning Princess never failed.
Of course, standing in a line that wrapped around the building, I neglected to be the best at my job and keep myself up to par in these conditions. Twenty-degree weather with a cold wind whipping across my face made me unfocused. I bounced up and down, hoping the physical activity would do something to warm me up. My heart rate increased, and I could barely speak through the movement, but the fog of breath in front of my face reminded me the doors didn't open for another hour, and no amount of jumping would keep me warm. "How are you holding up, Dad?"
My parents always got to sit on the folding chairs. This year, all the stores changed their hours, and we didn't need to sit in line as long as in the past. The big day of the year always was Black Friday, but now, in an effort to bring in more sales, more stores opened ON Thanksgiving. My family was among those standing in line most of Thanksgiving Day waiting for the doors to open. Mom brought cold turkey she made the day before, Dad sneaked in beer, my brother, Teddy, picked up the store's Wi-Fi and tuned in to the first season of House of Cards, but I didn't bring a thing.
"Okay." He stretched his legs out. "I'm not sure how much longer I can do this." My dad was nearly sixty and no longer able to stand all day. Black Friday (or I guess now Thursday) became a family tradition before my brother and I were even born. Our parents held us in line as babies! We never sought after a particular item. Sure, we scoped out the ads, but normally we just bum rushed the store with the rest of the people as crazy as us, grabbing what seemed to be the biggest items. Since most of the stores now implemented a ticket process, we always needed to know what we wanted ahead of time if we planned on getting anything worth our time. My parents typically sold their big grabs on eBay or Craigslist, bringing in the largest profit they could. My brother without a doubt purchased a video game of some sort every single year for his own personal use, and I often came along for the family time. This year, though, I planned on nabbing a few toys for my best friend Lisa's three-year-old daughter. She obsessed over the movie Frozen, and stores advertised new toys for the holiday season.
In the line of over one hundred people, we managed to snag a spot close to the front. I hopped out of line a few times to determine the length of time until we entered the store once we began moving. My estimate came in at about fifteen people ahead of us, and getting to the front shouldn't take too long. Over my years of planning conferences, weddings, and even children's parties (did you know how many parents hired me to turn their kid's first birthday into one they saw on Pinterest?), I got pretty damn good at determining head count at a glance.
My parents and brother arrived about two hours before I did. The store opened at ten, and this Princess took advantage of her beauty sleep. If I was to look my best in public, I needed at least an hour to get ready after a solid eight hours of sleep. Even a sale on the top day planners couldn't pull me out of bed early. Every detail of the parties I planned rested comfortably in an app on my iPad, but every event began with scribbles in my everyday planner. I loved a strong, spiral bound book filled with monthly calendars, hourly appointment lines, and space for fun stickers and notes to amuse myself. Some people lusted after the latest, greatest technology. Hand me a leather Franklin planner and a pen I could click frantically as I paced a room with decoration ideas swirling through my mind, and call me happier than a gamer at a LAN party. Odd comparison, I know, but if you saw my brother's eyes light up at the mention of a Saturday night holed up in someone's basement playing Counter-Strike, you would understand the correlation.
I blew into my gloves and rubbed my hands together, as if that would do anything to heat my insides. Well aware it didn't do a thing, I still continued to do it.
"Francie, sweetheart, why don't you take my seat?" My mom pushed herself off the blue and white chair, tossing her blanket on the seat. Once she crossed her arms into a self-hug to warm herself, my dad stood.
"DeeDee, no. Francie can sit in my chair. You sit down now." My dad raced past Teddy, who didn't even acknowledge us with his headphones super glued to his ears.
Every day of my life I spent on my feet, sprinting around ballrooms and conference centers, hiking stairs and searching for grooms five-minutes before they were set to pledge their lifelong commitment. I once stood three feet away from a first-time keynote speaker for two hours with a bucket in case she threw up during her speech. Surely, I could handle another hour of this.
"Did anyone come out yet to hand out tickets?" I took his seat as he suggested.
"Yeah, but all the tickets were for things like tablets, which we don't need. They aren't giving them for those toys you came for, so it's just you against the crowd."
Great. I didn't plan on fighting crazy moms in line for a doll. Knowing I couldn't go home now and change out of my heeled boots into running shoes, I cursed myself for making the fashionable choice. I already pictured pushing my way through the front doors, trying my hardest not to be trampled, and instead tripping over my own feet.
"Really, Dad? You didn't want to try to get the new iPad and sell it online?" My parents liked to obtain the latest and greatest on Thanksgiving. They didn't always get them all, but they sure tried.
My mom zipped her jacket down and back up again, this time a tad further so she could stick her mouth behind the cloth. Through muffled words, she said, "Not this year. We're not after the big stuff this time."
She didn't make any sense. Ever since I remembered their focus was on the hottest items of the season. Before eBay and Craigslist existed, they headed to collectible shops and often received hundreds of dollars for what they brought in. The cash paid for yearly vacations and over the top birthday parties. The first time I helped my mom plan an itinerary for a vacation I vowed to become a party planner. If not for our crazy cold mornings after Thanksgiving, quite possibly I wouldn't be the success I am today.
My mind spinning with reasons they would abandon their traditional plans, I asked, "Why the sudden change, Mom? If you're going to stand in line, you might as well have something to show for it." Why someone would waste their day standing with hordes of people, who may quite possibly be insane, and fight through the crowds within the store and not walk out with a big item to give as a gift or to sell for profit was beyond me.
"Francie, as we get older we realize what the most important things are."
"I still don't get it." My toes started to freeze, my cheeks numb, and my eyes dry and moist at the same time, which I did not even realize was possible.
My brother still paid no attention to us. He turned off his show and moved onto this video games, bouncing up and down in his chair and high-fiving the air as he progressed a level. My gaming didn't go beyond Candy Crush. As I struggled to pass level 409, I certainly could appreciate his addiction to a game, but his intensity remained a mystery to me. When I crushed a candy, I didn't jump up and down or do somersaults. I never quite understood my brother and didn't think I ever would, considering I was in my thirties and still hadn't figured it out.
"It's wonderful having the extra money, but now that everyone's so much older, we don't go on yearly vacations anymore. You're always busy working and Teddy is doing whatever it is I guess he's doing." My mom nodded her head towards him and I sensed her hesitation to accept Teddy's quest to create the next bestselling video game. Five years ago, he quit his job to dedicate all his time to it. He ended up having to move back in with our parents and he spent most of his time in the basement playing video games. My mom called it "procrastination" and he referred to it as "research."
The wind picked up and took my breath away. I sucked in the freezing air, my lungs aching. "What the hell are we doing here then instead of sitting at home while Dad prepares to watch the football game and you and I cook up dinner?" The tradition was fun to start with when I was little. Standing in line with so many different people and playing card games while we waited in line seem to be an adventure in my younger years. Now I only wanted my fuzzy slippers, oversized Packers sweatshirt, and black leggings.
Dad rose from his chair as though coming out of a complicated yoga pose, one vertebrae at a time. He patted his hands on my shoulders. "We love spending the time out here with you kids. We always have. It's a tradition."
I groaned. "Maybe it's time to start a new one."
CHAPTER TWO
"Start a new what?"
The voice came from behind me and didn't belong to anyone in my family. I stayed in my chair as I searched around me for whomever jumped into my conversation with my parents. Suddenly, next to me stood a gentleman, average height, bundled in a bright red winter coat, black gloves on his hands, and a multi-colored mask covering his face, big eyes poking through the holes on top. Based on his barging into my conversation, I guessed a pretty big mouth rested behind the mask, too.
"Can I help you?" What interest did this stranger hold in a discussion I had with my parents?
"Francie, don't be rude." My dad loved to embarrass me in public and also scold me. I'm in my thirties, and my dad still threatened me with time-outs. Did I mention I owned my own house and didn't mooch off my parents like my brother? Thankfully my dad walked away, but unfortunately that left me with this bozo.
Strange-man-in-a-face-mask nodded at my dad as he walked away, like men often did. I didn't know why they even needed to acknowledge each other. "Francie? Interesting name for someone your age."
I leaped out of my chair, and wanted to yell "put 'em up" at this guy. "First you butt into my private conversation, then you insult my age? And my name?"
"Whoa." He put his hands against his chest. "Calm down. I wasn't trying to offend you."
I wished this guy would take his mask off and prove a pimply, immature teenager, or pre-pubescent child hid behind it, because he already worked every nerve in my body. "I'm pretty sure you did. What is it that you need?"
He slouched over as he laughed from his belly. "What is it that I need? It's Thanksgiving, Francie! Cheer up!"
This guy spoke to me as though a friendship existed between us, and for many years at that. Don't get me wrong, it was very nice he remembered my name, but I didn't barge into his house on a holiday and start asking twenty questions. "I'm trying to enjoy Thanksgiving with my parents and brother here. You're kind of interrupting that."
Masked man eyeballed each of my family members - my dad, now resting his eyes; my mom, now covered from her neck down in a snuggie, reading a book; and, my far from involved brother Teddy, who only stopped moving his hands on his gaming device long enough to wipe his nose with his jacket arm. "Those people over there? The ones you're not even talking to?"
Ugh! My face, no longer pink from the wicked wind and cold temperature, became a deeper shade of red by my annoyance with this character. "I'm not sure who you are or what gives you the right to jump into my conversation I
was
having, but it's time you leave." In my career, I've dealt with party crashers, and this jerk was no different than any one of those. This wasn't an invite only event, but the ten by four area my family occupied was.
"Wow. Dumped so fast! You're hard to please!"
I took a deep breath, the inside of my nose freezing to ice as I did so. "Look, pal, you don't even know me. Move it along."
He scratched the top of his mask with his gloved hand. "Okay, okay. I sense I'm not wanted here. I'll let you get back to your
air quotes
conversation."