Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Jesus is the Reason I Shop Online All Season

‘Tis the season to be jolly; fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-FA-QU!!

It’s anything but jolly. The holiday season tends to change decent normal people turn into grotesque hideous characters. The blame here falls squarley on the shoulders of Holiday Stress Syndrome (H.S.S.). H.S.S. is a potentialyl fatal cocktail composed of equal parts shopping stress, maxed-out credit cards, not enough time to get it done, and awful driving habits.

How else can I explain the knee to the balls I took from what seemed to be a nice elderly lady I cut in front of to grab the last package of icicle lights off the Wal-Mart shelf? Arthritis my ass!! Her fast-twitch muscle fiber is real impressive for an octogenarian, or a starting NFL receiver for that matter. You don’t even want to know what she did with the cane.

As I lay wincing in the fetal position on the sticky foul smelling Wal-Mart floor that oddly tasted like Lime Diet Pepsi and Cheese Doodles she hurled a stream of expletives at me in a hip-hop staccato that would make Snoop-Dog want to produce her debut release. Those new icicle lights should sparkle real nicely at her convent. .

Between laughs I heard one of the pimple-faced temporary Wal-Marters ask “Duude, you alright?” Now completely cross-eyed and clutching my own Santa sack while taking a testicular inventory I weakly countered, “Do I look alright?” As Clearasil helped me up from the floor he enthusiastically said; “Sister Santiago straight-up whooped your ass!!” The only near plausible comeback I could offer was; “The bitch caught me when I wasn’t looking”. He chuckled and said; “Whatever dude.”

I recovered after hot tea and a cold compress courtesy of the Wal-Mart cafeteria. Those lunch counter ladies really know how to maneuver the compress with just the right amount of pressure, and to do it without hands, well, that just blew me away. But when the heaviest one with the eye patch and single latex glove offered to take my temperature I knew it was time to jet.

As I walked to my car I was encircled by a pack of slow moving cars. I suddenly felt like the starter pistol guy at Daytona. You would have thought my soon to be vacated parking spot sat above undiscovered oil the way everyone jockeyed for position.

At this point I like to play a fun little game I call “Which car is mine??” I excite all the stalkers waiting for a spot by walking to the car in the best possible parking spot, other than the handicapped spots that is. Just as I’m about to put my key in the lock I have an epiphany and realize this is not my car. Because I’m a Grade A jerkoff I do this approximately three more times or until someone yells; “Hey you stupid muthafucka find your goddamned car in the next ten seconds or I will shoot your sorry-ass” whichever comes first.

I haven’t done any significant research in the area but I firmly believe most road rage occurs in the month of December with cars traveling at blinding Autobahn speeds of about 5mph. Since it occurs in mall parking lots I’m not sure it can even be classified as road rage. It’s more like “lot rage” caused by H.S.S.

So what does it all mean? How can we change it?

I’m glad I asked. The simple answer is twofold. First, avoid driving to any stores during December. If you need to venture out to the stores, start your Christmas shopping on November 1st. Make sure all your shopping is done by Thanksgiving. You will be amazed how much easier it is to park and shop by simply doing it all November.

The second answer is one I followed for the last three years. SHOP ONLINE. It’s great --no lines, no idiots bumping into you, no obnoxious counter people, and last but not least…no sales tax!!

It’s not necessary for you to get gang-raped while standing in line at 3:00 a.m. at Best Buy so you can buy little Johnny that Play Station 3. Just order it online, and you won’t have to go the precinct to view mug shots. Unless, you are into that?

I haven’t set foot in a mall in years and I don’t plan to anytime soon. You have a better chance of seeing either Michael Richards sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” at the NBA all-star game, or Mel Gibson on vacation in Tel-Aviv, than you have of seeing my car in the mall parking lot.

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