Dateline Thursday, November 23rd, 2017.

5:45 PM: I arrive at work, dressed for battle. My armor consists of a beauty apron, khakis, and comfortable sneakers. There is a restless energy among my coworkers — one of excitement, determination, and perhaps a bit of fear. Battering rams — er, shopping carts are placed at the ready.

6:00 PM: The gates to the crimson kingdom are unlocked, and door busters, true to the moniker, bust through the doors. Black Friday Eve has commenced.

7:11 PM: The line stretches from one length of the store to the other and is rapidly growing. I am afraid.

7:48 PM: Some punk smashes into a display full of bowls. Glass is everywhere.

8:00 PM: Break at long last. I rest my weary feet for a blessed fifteen minutes. To the lovely soul who provided pizza in the break room: thank you.

8:41 PM: All around me, it appears as if the world is ending. Rather than stocking their carts with survival supplies, guests pile into line with Polaroid televisions and whatever the heck kind of Hatchimal/LOL Doll paraphernalia they can find. It is madness, and at the same time, I feel some kind of adrenaline burst that carries me through to the end of my shift.

9:45 PM: My shift is over, and so it seems is my experience with the most hardcore of holiday shoppers. Would I consider this to be one of the craziest nights of my working life? Yes. Would I do it all over again? Absolutely.