What about Black Friday weekend, the annual Welsh tradition where perfectly sensible people temporarily lose the run of themselves, elbowing pensioners out of the way for half-price kettles, while pretending they’re still in control of their lives?
Personally, I’ve saved an absolute fortune over the years by doing something revolutionary: not going anywhere near the shops.
That’s right, the secret to my financial success is simply . . . not participating.
Dragons couldn’t drag me to Tesco on Black Friday.
But, don’t worry, cariad, this year, I didn’t miss the entertainment.
Oh no!
From the comfort of my sofa, armed with a cuppa and a pack of Welsh cakes, I enjoyed front-row seats to the finest comedy outside of a rugby club open-mic night.
Picture this: a middle-aged man, proudly sporting grey tracksuit bottoms, the kind that say, “I’ve given up caring, but I still like comfort”, paired with brown leather shoes last seen on Tom Jones in the ’70ss, and a duffle coat that looked borrowed from a museum display entitled “Cwmbran Fashion Through the Ages.”
This hero, this titan among men, was locked in mortal combat with a 55-inch flat-screen TV, determined to wedge it into the back of a taxi outside a well-known retail store.
The taxi driver, who had clearly seen things no human should see on Black Friday, watched on with that familiar Welsh expression: 40% amusement, 40% confusion, and 20% “I’m not paid enough for this.”
And, yes, miracle of miracles, the TV eventually went in, but only after enough shoving, grunting, and questionable manoeuvring to qualify as an unofficial sporting event.
If Wales ever needs a new national sport, may I suggest Competitive Taxi Packing?
Meanwhile, the man’s wife stood by with her arms crossed so tightly she could’ve cracked walnuts, glaring with the intensity of a Dragon’s Den judge who’s just been pitched a solar-powered toaster.
Her patience?
Thinner than the Black Friday discount signs!
“You’re kidding me, right?” she thundered, loud enough to scare pigeons off the roof of Poundland. “You expect me to take the bus home while you play big man in the taxi?”
Then, with the dramatic flair of a woman who’s absolutely had it, she exploded:
“That’s it. I’m off to bingo. And you can shove that TV where the sun doesn’t shine, you selfish pig!”
Nothing says Nadolig spirit quite like screaming at your husband over bargain electronics in a public car park.
As the taxi drove off, with the TV wedged in and the man looking like someone who’d just realised he’d made several poor life choices, I couldn’t help but wonder . . .
Are they the only couple to kick off the festive season with a full-blown row?
Surely not.
Why watch a Hallmark Christmas movie when real-life Welsh drama is playing out live in HD outside your window?
So, in the end, while my bank account remains untouched and my blood pressure pleasantly steady, I’ve come to cherish the accidental comedy of Black Friday.
Here’s to the brave (and slightly unhinged) souls fighting for bargains.
Here’s to the couples whose love survives even the stupidest shopping decisions.
And here’s to bingo nights full of joy, winnings, and hopefully no more arguments about televisions.
Happy holidays, and may all your TVs fit in taxis without divine intervention.