Holiday Shopping

Holiday shopping is lovely as long as you do it before Thanksgiving. After that it’s pure screaming hell. I try to get mine done early, but there are always one or two little things that slip my mind and, once again, I have to descend into the nightmare. Look people, it’s unpleasant for all of us. Treating each other like crap isn’t going to make it any better. I understand we’re all a little cranky but some people add their own little nasty spice to the whole affair. They’re cruel to shop keepers, who are already miserable having to work crazy hours when they’d rather be with friends and family. They cut people off in the crazy mall traffic. They become ruthless and uncivilized under the pressure of last minute shopping. A few years ago I got to watch a father groom his young son on how to be an ass. I thought it would be fun to attach absurdly over-sized lollypops to the top of every present I had for a child. So, I had waited in a spectacularly long line in a gourmet candy shop and only had two more people in front of me. In addition to all the giant holiday displays, the place was packed with people. I notice a father and his son, who looked about six or seven, enter the shop, pick up a few things and then head towards the register instead of the end of the spectacularly long line. The son seemed confused and a little reluctant. Finally, after a little more prodding from his father, the small child slipped in front of me and pretended to look at a display. It was sort of a “Don’t mind me, I just want to glace at this real quick” type move. It was done poorly. He was after all only a child and couldn’t help grabbing quick nervous glances at me. The father stood near by occasionally giving a “keep it up” hand gesture. When the customer at the register finished up, the next person in line stepped forward and the boy’s father slipped neatly into the gap made and firmly turned his back on me. I turned to look and see if any of the people behind me had noticed. A few looked confused. One looked pissed but rest seemed so distracted they wouldn’t have noticed a flaming llama. The father never looked at me. The child, however, looked terrified and couldn’t stop staring at me. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t even sure how to start and I didn’t want to freak out the kid. I don’t know if the father is a complete idiot and thought I wouldn’t notice or if he goes about counting on the good manners of others. When your six year old knows you’re behaving badly, you’ve got to know you’re a prick.