2003-12-14 - 5:42 p.m.
No, Virginia, There Isn't Such Thing as a Quick Trip to the Mall in DecemberI'm willing to bet that one of the circles of hell is exactly like your local shopping mall on the last couple of Saturdays before Christmas. You die, your soul is judged, and you are flung into Walmart for an eternity of torture among an endless wave of dreary faces crying out for mercy, cursing their wayward lives and the dread fate their souls are forever consigned to, and looking for bargains.
Is there anything more miserable than the mall at Christmas, all the more aggravating for the endless cheer-commanding colourful jangle and singsongy cacophony of it all? I had need of a quick trip to the mall on Saturday, and I left twenty minutes later feeling like I'd just done a tour in Vietnam, my huge beard framing the thousand-yard-stare on my face, screaming at passersby, "You don't know what it was like, man! You weren't there!"
I discovered that there are two Christmas Shopper Moods:
Christmas Shopper Mood #1: Zombie. Think Invasion of the Body Snatchers. A sea of mindless husks with vacant-yet-wide-eyed expressions, plodding along step after halted step, stopping periodically to point at other shoppers, notably those who have grabbed the last sought-after toy from the shelf, and emit a chilling, throaty scream.
Christmas Shopper Mood #2: Infantry. Think Normandy-invasion-scene in Saving Private Ryan. 'Nuff said.
Not surprisingly, neither form of Christmas shopper is known for "playing well with others." There is an oppressive mood in the shopping centres of the world right now -- akin to that sensed by prison guards who can feel the stirrings of riot in the mess hall moments before eruption.
Only ten more shopping days left before ceasefire!
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