Some folks identify themselves by their job: "Hi, I am Mike and I am a social worker, what do you do?"

Others define themselves by their passion: "Hi, I am Mike and I love to golf and would play nearly every weekend if given the opportunity."

Many here in Hawai'i define themselves by where they are from: "Hi, I am Mike and I was born and raised on the Wai'anae coast. Where are you from?"

Still others define themselves by the roles they fill in life: "Hi, I am Mike and I've been married for nearly 20 years."

Yada, yada, yada.

Imagine if you walked up to someone and they introduced themselves like this: "Hi, I am Mike and I once emptied all of the contents of a 747 lavatory system on the tarmac at Honolulu International Airport." Or "Hi, I am Mike and my safety check was once stolen from my car bumper while I was talking with a police officer." Or better yet, "Hi, I am Mike and I once talked a friend into eating a live bug in front of his guests while at a formal luncheon." It may not tell you much about me, but it is interesting.

Sometimes we define ourselves not by who we are or what we do but by who we are not and by what we will not do. For instance, I eschew big-box stores and large chains and instead do all of my shopping at mom-and-pop joints. I will pay more for less if I believe that it will keep a local business solvent.

Of course, there are limits to this. I am willing to buy a box of golf balls for $20 at the local pro shop rather than spend $17 at the megastore. However, when it comes to the big-ticket item, I am stuck. After all, my name is not Donald Trump.

Another interesting fact: I have never shopped on Black Friday. Black Friday is the worst of all worlds for an agoraphobe like me. The biggest sales are typically at the biggest stores, and this naturally generates the biggest crowds of the year. A riotous horde looking to save money and willing to push, pull, claw and gouge for the right to purchase something they do not need in the first place sounds like consumer hell to me.

No, I have never wanted anything to do with Black Friday — until this year. Last Tuesday, I was at the local hardware store pricing cordless drills and was just about to purchase an 18-volt dumbbell of a drill when I was struck by a sudden wave of guilt. I took a quick mental inventory of the checking account and decided against the purchase. Then on Thursday night, as Thanksgiving came to an overstuffed end, an ad danced across the celluloid screen. There was my drill. At a megastore. At the mall. For close to 70 percent off the original price. Friday only.

Well I had no choice; I had to get it.

I do not know what it was, perhaps my brother's turkey, my wife's famed stuffing, Grandma Nina's potato salad, my sister's pecan pie, or even Papa's pumpkin pie. Worse still and tragically ironic, it could have been my very own rotisserie prime-rib roast or some combination of all of the above. Whatever it was, Thanksgiving night turned out to be a painful event. I finally made it to bed at 3 a.m. and woke up 2 1/2 hours later to set out on my adventure. Unfortunately, my indigestion turned into something worse and I never left the "library."

That is when my wife stepped up the plate and offered to go to the store in my stead. Trust me when I say that I know that I am blessed, but this was more than any one man deserved. I did the only thing I could. I declined her offer three times ... before finally consenting. Nearly one hour later, she returned home, drill in hand.

Some define themselves by the crazy things they have done in their lifetime, I define myself by the roles I fill.

"Hi, my name is Mike and I have been happily married to the same woman for nearly 20 years now. I used to think it was dumb luck, but now I know better. I married a saint and I am completely unworthy."

Michael C. DeMattos is a member of the faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. He lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs and two mice.