By Christmas Shopping I’m not meaning the actual process of giving and receiving gifts, that’s lined up for another day. What I mean is the physical act of going into town or some shopping centre on the edge of town. The mind bogglingly stressful act of getting all your Christmas Prezzies.
So, being a bloke, shopping really doesn’t come naturally to me. If I need to leave the comfort of my keyboard to purchase something I want the process to be In –> Purchase –> Out. I do not want to aimlessly wander round with all the other shoppers gazing into windows looking at stuff that I want1. The absolute worst thing possible for me is to enter said shopping zone without the vaguest idea of what to get for the recipients of my enforced generosity. I am forced to join the legions of people with pissed off faces picking up stuff that the intended family member or friend probably doesn’t even need.
There’s worse though. Fighting for parking spaces, getting jostled in queues, spotting people trying to jump queues (I’m thinking HMV here) and all the time having to listen to cheesy piped Christmas music is enough to make me want to scream. And, you have to remember, it’s Christmas. The season of goodwill to all. Yet all those shoppers forget that. They’re thinking me, me, me and stuff everyone else. Yet again the whole reason people are preparing to celebrate is completely forgotten.
I really hate Christmas.
- or I’m told I want, another day’s reason to come [↩]
