Who needs Black Friday when we’re simply special

Black Friday used to mean queues outside shops at 05:00. Today it’s much more sophisticated. We sit at home in pyjamas hitting “refresh” on Takealot like we’re trying to resuscitate the economy. Credit cards quiver, delivery vans zig-zag across Glenhazel, and every South African becomes a part-time bargain hunter with the reflexes of a teenager on PlayStation 5, two Red Bulls in. 

Watching this national frenzy unfold online, I can’t help wondering: what if our own community joined in? What if, just for one glorious day, shuls, schools, the CSO, Hatzolah, and even the Chevrah Kadisha unleashed Black Friday specials the way retailers do? 

The results would be spectacular … and probably chaotic. 

First up, the shuls. They could run a “Buy One Aliya, Get One Free – today only!” 

A spiritual offer for the honour-conscious, the uncle who hovers near the bimah, and the grandfather who insists he “never takes anything”. 

Next up, the Early-Bird Minyan Discount. The first 10 men in the door get a “eat at the kiddush first” voucher, and the smug glow of moral superiority. 

And for those who take seating seriously, there’s the High Holy Day Upgrade: 

Buy standard membership, get automatically upgraded to your yom tov seat. (Excludes the coveted back-left corner, where everyone hides.) 

Then there’s the Rabbi’s Sermon Fast Pass – a once-in-a-lifetime, Black Friday-only ticket allowing you to skip directly to the final blessing. Ideal for anyone who “has a thing at 11” or simply reaches their sermon limit after 90 seconds. 

Schools, naturally, would dive in enthusiastically. 

The tuckshop announces a Mega Meal Deal: buy one toasted cheese, get a free Coke. Teachers acknowledge the deal, but deny responsibility for the sugar storm that follows. 

In the uniform shop: Buy two kippot, get the third (guaranteed to be lost immediately) free. 

Parent-teacher meetings get a makeover too, with a Premium Appointment Upgrade: trade your rushed three-minute slot for a luxurious four-minute session including eye contact, nodding, and placating phrases like “Your child is doing fine.” 

And for one shining hour, the impossible becomes reality: 

Homework Amnesty: all forgotten homework forgiven. (Terms and conditions: can be cancelled at any point, without warning, depending on teacher mood, caffeine levels, and class behaviour.) 

The CSO kicks things off with the Security Support Bundle: sign up as a donor today, and receive: 

• A reflective vest 

• A fridge magnet 

• A limited-edition sticker: “I survived the community WhatsApp group.” 

Hatzolah’s Black Friday Special is equally irresistible. Sign up as a monthly donor, and enjoy the unspoken guarantee that although they absolutely remember your 03:00 panic call, they will never judge you for it. You also get another magnet. There are always magnets. 

And then, handled with deep reverence and zero Black Friday hysteria, the Chevrah Kadisha offers the End-of-Life Peace of Mind Package. 

It includes a calmly managed phone call, gentle guidance, professionalism, a new copy of the “Jewish Guide to Death and Mourning”, and three additional days on the Take Them A Meal list. Proof that even on Black Friday, dignity doesn’t come cheap. 

As funny as it is to imagine this, the satire highlights something real: our community is its own kind of ecosystem. And has the GDP of a small country. 

Whether it’s a simcha, a crisis, or a neighbour in need, we don’t wait for Black Friday to arrive. We lift, we help, we cook, we daven, we argue, we hug, and we sign up for rosters we’ll regret later. It’s messy, beautiful, and it works. 

So, if Black Friday ever did arrive in the communal world, the best deal wouldn’t be “Two aliyas for the price of one”, or a discounted kippah that your child will lose before Mincha. 

The real blockbuster special, the one that would sell out before sunrise is this: Community: 100% Off. Free for life. Unlimited support, endless opinions, guaranteed chaos, and absolutely no option to change your seat.