Christmas Kumate
In an unprecedented display of Christmas shopping skill and prowess, today, I managed to successfully complete ALL my holiday errands and gift buying in little over one hour at the local public mall. Seventy-seven minutes to be fucking EXACT…Yes, I was kicking merry ass and taking jolly names!
This is the first time (also very likely the last time) that this will probably ever happen to me! I am confident that I am just destined to be the poor, wretched type of person that will forever be grinding it out in pitched combat among the stores aisles with all the other hopeless shoppers only mere hours before the store actually closes.
It’s like Opening Night at the Coliseum: armed warriors waging battle to the death for the last few remaining elderberry-scented candles, maybe a plastic wall mounted Bass that sings CCR tunes, or boxes of ‘After Eight’ mints with the Best Before stickers ripped off; perhaps a set of Brittany Spears car mats, special tubs of “Ylang-ylang Enriched” moisturizing skin conditioner, spools of tackily-designed wrapping paper with palm trees, or chipped ceramic ashtrays in the likeness of Tony Soprano…something that is guaranteed to accumulate more dust than a Roman butter dish left out on a Pompeii street corner.
Or maybe I would just fall back on the new holiday staple in every public shopping mall: the cell phone booths. These cell phone companies and service centers are like popping up like fucking locusts! The cell phone marketers and salespersons fortify themselves in barricaded Sales Centers every 10ft or so down the mall cloisters and tirelessly hock ‘Calling Cards’, ‘Unlimited Weekends’, and maybe a Ring Tone that plays Supertramp’s entire ‘Fools Overature’.
For all the sales demonstrations going on you couldn’t so much as squeak out a fart in any public mall nowadays without it being picked up on someone's new 'High-Clarity' cell phone somewhere! If I’m interpreting those cutesy talking chameleon television commercials correctly, cell phones nowadays are capable of being consumed, digested and being shat out by a 4 ton Tyrannysaurus Rex, and not only still work with crystal clear clarity, but not even charge you a single second of ‘Roaming’ to boot!
But this year, I left all this usual seasonal shopping nastiness behind me. I must have had a Christmas angel on my shoulder working crowd control or something, because my foray into the unchartered “No Man’s Land” of my local Shopping Mall couldn’t have gone easier today had I been wielding a fully fueled flamethrower. Can you imagine the reaction I’d haven gotten when I sauntered up to the Customer Service Center with the fuse already lit and hissing:
“Excuse me, do you know where I can find that new Michael Moore DVD?”
You’d better believe that they’d be moving their ass - post haste - across the sales floor with all the determined focus of an Olympic 100m Sprinter in order to secure me my purchase and get this psychotic lunatic out of the store with as few Christmas casualties as possible.
This is the first time (also very likely the last time) that this will probably ever happen to me! I am confident that I am just destined to be the poor, wretched type of person that will forever be grinding it out in pitched combat among the stores aisles with all the other hopeless shoppers only mere hours before the store actually closes.
It’s like Opening Night at the Coliseum: armed warriors waging battle to the death for the last few remaining elderberry-scented candles, maybe a plastic wall mounted Bass that sings CCR tunes, or boxes of ‘After Eight’ mints with the Best Before stickers ripped off; perhaps a set of Brittany Spears car mats, special tubs of “Ylang-ylang Enriched” moisturizing skin conditioner, spools of tackily-designed wrapping paper with palm trees, or chipped ceramic ashtrays in the likeness of Tony Soprano…something that is guaranteed to accumulate more dust than a Roman butter dish left out on a Pompeii street corner.
Or maybe I would just fall back on the new holiday staple in every public shopping mall: the cell phone booths. These cell phone companies and service centers are like popping up like fucking locusts! The cell phone marketers and salespersons fortify themselves in barricaded Sales Centers every 10ft or so down the mall cloisters and tirelessly hock ‘Calling Cards’, ‘Unlimited Weekends’, and maybe a Ring Tone that plays Supertramp’s entire ‘Fools Overature’.
For all the sales demonstrations going on you couldn’t so much as squeak out a fart in any public mall nowadays without it being picked up on someone's new 'High-Clarity' cell phone somewhere! If I’m interpreting those cutesy talking chameleon television commercials correctly, cell phones nowadays are capable of being consumed, digested and being shat out by a 4 ton Tyrannysaurus Rex, and not only still work with crystal clear clarity, but not even charge you a single second of ‘Roaming’ to boot!
But this year, I left all this usual seasonal shopping nastiness behind me. I must have had a Christmas angel on my shoulder working crowd control or something, because my foray into the unchartered “No Man’s Land” of my local Shopping Mall couldn’t have gone easier today had I been wielding a fully fueled flamethrower. Can you imagine the reaction I’d haven gotten when I sauntered up to the Customer Service Center with the fuse already lit and hissing:
“Excuse me, do you know where I can find that new Michael Moore DVD?”
You’d better believe that they’d be moving their ass - post haste - across the sales floor with all the determined focus of an Olympic 100m Sprinter in order to secure me my purchase and get this psychotic lunatic out of the store with as few Christmas casualties as possible.
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