The first asshole you meet is the woman behind you in line that morning. Yet somehow, by the time the doors open, that bitch managed to reposition herself in front of you. It's not anything worth complaining over, but you momentarily consider jumping out of line and knifing her tires.

The second asshole you'll meet is the person who makes the scene as soon as the doors open. Usually they'll proclaim that they're going to be the first person inside the store or something even more obnoxious. In my case on a particular morning, it was a woman posing to be disabled in a wheelchair, only to start walking on her own two God-given legs as soon as she got into the damn place. Needless to say, she came out of the store with her windshield smashed. Whoever did that, I salute you.

The next series of assholes will be all of those in the store who are just pissing you off. They're rude, snooty, and think that their child is the most important person in the world. But honestly, the best thing that kid needs for Christmas is a fatherly figure with a leather belt. (A little fact: a leather belt will contribute to a child's development far more than a Wii ever will.)

You'll meet the fourth asshole in the checkout line. Neither this person nor you are sure if they're actually in the checkout line or not. They seem to think that they're place in line will be held as long as they can maintain eyesight with it. And if you encroach into that spot, they will bee line over to you and squeeze into that space between you and the person in front of you. All you can do is cough and sneeze behind them without covering your mouth. Whether you get a response or not, it's more satisfying than eating a Snickers while watching a monster truck crush through the store squishing all of those assholes you've met today.

The final asshole will hit you as you're pulling out of your space. Then, they will pull into your space and deny ever hitting you. You've got this person's plate number. Call it in as a hit and run and give that fucker a surprise when they come out of the store.

The important thing to take out of this is that if you decide to attend Black Friday early morning festivities, take a knife, brick, leather belt, Snickers bar, and a pen and paper to write down that fucker's plate number. I can't assure you that this will rid you of any shiteaters that you'll meet on this glorious morning, but at least you can go to bed at noon knowing that justice has been brought upon those most deserving.