A Christmas Story

December should be a relaxing family oriented time of the year where we reflect on our blessings and forgive those who have given us the shaft during the past twelve months. So with yule tide cheer in my heart, I finished up my cup of extra creamy cocoa, bundled up in my holly leaf patterned scarf and headed to the mall to purchase blessings for others.

As I joyfully made my way into the parking lot, nary a parking space could be found. Finally after several minutes of circling, I spotted a woman walking toward their car, so I followed her and patiently waited for her to leave. After applying her makeup and making two calls on her cell phone she looked at me and asked me if I would like to park in her space. "Why yes I would," I replied cheerfully. Then she proceeded to make another phone call and and added some more lipstick. Minutes later when she finally decided to leave she backed out and blocked my way allowing a beat up pickup truck to take my space. A portly lass in a NASCAR sweatshirt, who bore a striking resemblance to Dick the Bruiser stepped out and defiantly raised three fingers in honor of Dale Earnhardt and told me to read between the lines. I know of somebody who just made the naughty list in my book. But its Christmas, a time for forgiving. So I did.

First on my list was a perfume that could only be found in Victoria's Secret. It was on my fiance's wish list so the purchase was not optional. I can honestly say that I had never stepped a foot inside of Victoria's before, but once your inside, the secret is pretty much out of the bag. Holy Cow! There was stuff in there that made my face turn brighter red than Santa's jump suit. Get in and get out! That was the plan. Fat chance! A woman with more chins than Chinese phonebook held a a little piece of black lace and asked if I thought it would look good on her. She wanted to surprise her husband on Christmas morning. "Oh he'll be surprised I assured her,"as I ran to another cashier who was adorned in a elf cap and lace wings. I hope she has the paddles and crash cart ready. She's going to need them.

After assuring the little elf angel that all I wanted was the perfume and I wasn't interested in the leopard bikini or feather boa, she insisted wrapping my little bottle of perfume in a pink and purple Christmas bag, that was large enough to carry a pair of basketballs with the Victoria's Secret logo big enough to read from a hundred yards away.

Trying to act as masculine as possible, I slithered back into the mall and walked right into none other than Ms. Dick the Bruiser herself. She took one look at my bag and called me a pervert. Mothers started to drag their children away and a security cop started meandering in my direction. Like a beaten dog I cowered my way back to my jeep, a beaten man.
From this point on...all Christmas shopping will be done on the internet.

I'm beginning to understand the Grinch's point of view...

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Merry Christmas
Rick