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Ready, set ... SHOP photo by Steve Johnson For Joan Gugliotta and hundreds of other holiday shoppers, speed was of the essence in getting to the best sales Friday. Some post-Thanksgiving bargain-hunters could teach generals about precision By Dave Preszler Joan Gugliotta waits with her daughter-in-law Teresa and Teresa's brother Tim Rupp in the predawn darkness. "It's usually colder out here," says Rupp, a veteran of day-after Thanksgiving shopping. "This is the most crowded I've seen this," says Gugliotta. Dressed in black and green, she's about to embark on a frighteningly efficient 2-hour shopping mission during which she'll spend $270 and hit six stores. It's 5:50 a.m. and the line is swelling at the north Medford Fred Meyer. Spots in the parking lot becoming hard to come by. The opening salvos for thousands of militant Rogue Valley shoppers are only minutes away. The 6 a.m. action centers around Fred Meyer with its half-off sock sale and Wal-Mart, where wild rumors of 200 Furbys (there were only 28) drew the masses. Although Target won't open until 7 a.m., the line there began about 5 o'clock; 10 of the first 1,000 shoppers will win $100 gift certificates. But socks come first for Gugliotta and company. Rupp, given sole shopping duties because his wife is caring for their sick 3-year-old, runs through the list she gave him: socks, candles and sheets, along with some milk and cheese that he has a coupon for. The key-wielding Fred Meyer employee signals the arrival of the magic moment, moving swiftly to the three sets of doors. "We're going to be last," Rupp says in mild disappointment. Speed-walking shoppers stream in. By 6:04, Gugliotta has the men's athletic socks she wanted. "Over here to dress socks," she shouts to Rupp, who surveys the boxed-in dress sock area warily. "You get trapped on that wall and you're hosed," he says. Two minutes later, Gugliotta is in the ladies' section, where tighter aisles make the going tough. Seconds later, she heads for the candles, trying to find the ones that are half-off. By 6:08 a.m., she's ducked into the electronics department checkout line with 24 pairs of socks and three candles. "I'm done," she announces. "If you spend too much time, you have stand in line at the register." Nearby a woman is complaining to the store manager, wondering why half of the parking lot is being leased to Lithia Motors. The lot is so full, she says at 6:10 a.m., that she's had to park illegally. Before she leaves, Gugliotta grabs nine more pairs of socks and some Hot Wheels for her students. She teaches fourth and fifth grade at Sams Valley Elementary. At Target just after 6:30, Mike Humphrey waits with Joe and Scott Davis near the front of a line that stretches around the side and all the way to the back of the building. The three and Leveda Stell left Gold Beach at midnight, coming for nothing but the $100 gift certificates. "We got here at 3, so we went to some restaurant," Scott Davis says. "We didn't see anyone here and so we figured we were OK." "We came back at about 5 and all these people were in front of us," Humphrey says, motioning to a dozen people by the door. As Target's 7 o'clock opening approaches, groups gather around the edges of the line, waiting for a chance to slip in. Yells of "we've been here since 5:15, so go stand in line" drive some back. "I'm not buying anything here," Gugliotta says, though she'll end up buying candy canes for her students before she leaves. "I just want a (game) piece." Gugliotta reaches the door at 7:04, getting a free Hot Wheels car (also for her students) and a game piece. The sign that tells you if you've won a gift certificate, a 1998 Honda Odyssey or nothing is back in the toy department, drawing customers deep into the store. The "Happy Holidays" written on Gugliotta's piece turns out to mean no dice, so sorry. She passes the Gold Beach group. Stell is the only one of the four to win something. "We conned her into coming down here, so at least she got $100," Joe Davis says. By 7:20, Gugliotta is leaving. She stops by Mervyn's in hopes of landing a free stuffed penguin for her granddaughter, who's almost 2. No luck. She heads for Emporium's jeans sale but no one is really waiting, so she stops by Toys 'R' Us and buys a bicycle for her granddaughter. When Emporium opens at 8, she makes a beeline for the jeans. In four minutes, she has three pairs and is at the checkout. Sizes need only be close. "If they are too big, we'll bring them back," she says. By 8:08 a.m., Gugliotta is off to Blackbird -- her last big stop. Stocking stuffers are the quarry and, as usual, she wastes little time. She has the three she came for -- and a pillow for her dog that she couldn't pass up -- by 8:20. But something the woman in front of her at the checkout has catches her eye. She dashes back for one and, in a twist of courtesy rarely seen on such a busy day, doesn't even lose her place in line. By the time she's written her check, she's added just one more thing from the aisle display one space over. At 8:27, her day's basically over and without a major hitch. "Target was the only place that got a little crazy and that's because there was hard cash," she says. She heads back to Emporium to have the jeans gift-wrapped ("I didn't want to take the time before"). Then it was off to Burger King for cinna-minis that she got a free coupon for at Toys 'R' Us. Gugliotta hit a few more stores later on -- at a much more leisurely pace. She planned to return to Fred Meyer to get milk and cheese with the coupons she didn't bother with at 6 o'clock. "I began at Fred Meyer and I'll end at Fred Meyer," she says. And do it all again next year. Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1998, Medford, Oregon USA