It’s 6 AM on Cyber Monday and Karen from accounting is already having a nervous breakdown in the break room because the flash sale on artisanal dog sweaters ended at 6:01 AM and she “literally cannot function” without securing a £200 cashmere turtleneck for Mr. Whiskers.
“This is worse than Black Friday,” she sobs into her pumpkin spice latte.
“At least then I could physically fight someone for the last discounted item. Now I’m just refreshing browser tab and crying at my laptop.”
Dave from IT walks in, looking like he hasn’t slept since last Tuesday.
“I’ve been monitoring seventeen different retail websites since midnight,” he announces to no one in particular. “My cart abandonment rate is higher than my credit score.”
“Did you get the limited edition gaming chair?” asks Brad from marketing, who’s been stress eating donuts since the office opened.
“Sold out in fourteen seconds,” Dave replies, dead behind the eyes.
“Fourteen. Fucking. Seconds. I had three browsers open, autofill enabled, payment info saved, and still got beat by some bot army in Bangladesh.”
Karen looks up from her tissues. “I tried to buy those wireless headphones that were 80% off, but the website crashed right as I was entering my credit card info. When it came back up, they’d increased the price by 200% and called it a Cyber Monday Special Deal.’”
“That’s nothing,” says Linda from HR, who’s been unusually quiet.
“I accidentally bought a £1400 espresso machine because I was rage clicking through checkout errors. I don’t even drink coffee.”
“Can you return it?” Brad asks.
“All Cyber Monday sales are final,” Linda whispers. “I now own a professional grade espresso machine and I’m lactose intolerant.”
By noon, the entire office has descended into online shopping madness. People are bidding against each other for the same items, forming temporary alliances to share discount codes, and engaging in psychological warfare over the last remaining units of whatever garbage they’ve convinced themselves they desperately need.
“I got a 50 inch TV for £200!” screams Janet from reception.
“What’s the catch?” everyone asks in unison.
“It’s from 2003 and weighs 400 pounds,” she admits. “But it was 95% off!”
The day ends with half the staff having buyer’s remorse, the other half having seller’s regret for not buying more useless shit, and everyone agreeing that next year they’ll definitely just stay offline for the entire week.
They won’t.
And that, friends, is why they call it Cry Baby Monday.
No products were sold in the making of this email. Only dignity.
Tomorrow is gonna suck balls.
I’m still coughing my tits off.
Amazon has a deal on some fancy books I’ve been looking for but I can guess it’s gonna be double the price and pawned off as a Cyber Monday deal.
Stephen Walker.
P.S. Don’t forget to educate your earholes with one of the greatest pieces of post-rock ever.