If you've read my sister's blog, you'll know that she's filing frequent reports of the Holiday Bazaar Season. As for me, I'll be filing reports of the Holiday Bizarre Season. I'm not sure there's a real difference. Any line separating the two is fuzzy string of tinsel at best.
I actually started my day with a nice 45 minute walk to the gym, an hour long step aerobics class, and then a brisk walk with my husband through the Arnold Arboretum. I'm not sure what made us think that the natural progression of activity for a beautiful Autumn Sunday would be joining the ill-mannered masses in hauling our husks through the popular retailer, Target.
I know we haven't even reached Thanksgiving yet, but let's face it...people are already in full Christmas mode. Stores are crowded, parking lots are war zones, and wiser shoppers know to come to the shops having updated their living wills, left notes about their intended whereabouts with loved ones, clad in full body armor, and provisioned with snacks, drinks, flashlights, maps, GPS systems, flares, and first aid kits.
Johnny Mathis might think it's the "Most Wonderful Time of the Year" but I've never seen his ass in AJ Wrights at 5:59 PM on Christmas Eve and I beg to differ.
Anyway, as soon as we stepped foot into Target, we kind of knew it was a mistake. But we just sort of looked at each other and silently resolved to forge ahead.
As with most Target stores, the Watertown location boasts a robust trade at the "Dollar Zone" area right at the entrance. It was there that I saw two elderly women engaged in mortal combat over the last box of PoppyCock peanut brittle. I didn't feel compelled to referee the match. I figured that at worst, they would knock each other's single tooth out, which, of course, would be inevitable for whichever one ended up actually securing the dental-woe-inducing confection.
Who the hell had time to try to engage these ladies in peace talks? Not me. I was down to a mere 58 minutes to run the length, width, and depth of the store to get everything I needed. Rose Niland and Blanche Devereaux were on their own!
I made my way over to the womens clothing area to have a look at the advertised $9 sweaters. I had my doubts, but I figured I'd take a look. I should have gone with my gut instincts. The "ribbed knit" sweaters were,I think, made of a unique Muskrat hair-Glad bag hybrid material. Naturally that didn't stop frenzied bargain hunters from descending upon the dispaly of sweaters as if they were $9 Prada handbags instead of the North Korean state clothing factory rejects they actually were.
I continued to battle my way through the store.
I risked life and limb in the toy department (where about 4 kids had crossed the line from temper tantrum to full blown Chernobyl nuclear meltdown), the electronics department (where a droopy-pantsed youth was trying to slip an 80 inch plasma screen TV into his oversized Ed Hardy sweatshirt, much to the amusement of the hovering security guard), the health and beauty department (where a man dressed in cowboy boots, a denim mini-skirt, and a fringed vest circa 1975, was unabashedly opening up every single package of Physicians Formula makeup and sampling it on his own visage), and the food department (where two women used their shopping carts to cordon off the Nestles semi-sweet chocolate chip display, blocking both myself and the stock person who was there to replenish the supply).
Finally, with a splitting headache, sore legs, an aching back, and a general sense of malaise, I retired to the only area of the store that I knew would be empty so that I could collect my thouhts and tap into my second wind. Where might that quiet oasis in the middle of a busy Target store be? I'll give you one hint. I'm going to throw a conservative estimate out there that about 100% of the shoppers there today were illiterate. So, naturally I took to the book department. Success.
I don't know what made me think that a pit stop at the Target Starbucks on the way out would be a good idea. Maybe I got cocky, thinking that since I'd survived the shopping experience, that I was invincible and that even the Target Starbucks could not defeat me.
Yeah, right.
The 3'2" burqua clad woman in front of me ordered a big mocha, skim, soy, half-caf, breve, non-fat, half-fat thing that took a full half hour to order. I almost fell over when the barista announced the grand total of $6.78. And I think I may have legit fallen over when the customer produced an Iggy's bread plastic bag full of nickles and pennies and proceeded to count out the money....very slowly...and with great ceremony.
When, finally, I had my own coffee in hand, I went over to the milk and sugar bar. The woman was still holding court over there, but since it had taken the barista a full 7 hours to separate her coin payment into the register (before filling my order, of course), I figurd she'd had plenty of time to doctor up her drink to her liking. So, I went right in for the reach to the skim milk. As soon as I made my move, she literally flung herself at me, and started making a great production of showing me that it was a real effort to reach across me to get to what she needed. She kept huffing and puffing and moaning about my being in her way. Naturally I took my sweet time, releasing both Splenda packets into my beverage, one granule at a time, stopping after each one to replace the drink cover, adjust the straw, and then take a taste.
Payback's a bitch!
Anyway, I managed to find my husband, who was already in the throes of a major psychological breakdown after his meanderings through this shit show. So, we agreed that I'd drop him off at home and then continue on to Stop and Shop.
I won't really get too detailed about my experience at Stop and Shop. Suffice it to say that the general behavior patterns weren't much better than they had been at Target. However, there is one thing that makes the supreme uncouthness even more unacceptable and revolting at Stop and Shop. For example, when I enter the restroom at Target and see and employee in there hacking up a lung and then not washing their hands, I take a nosedive right into my always-handy hand sanitizer. When I see it at the Stop and Shop restroom, like I did today, I just want to die a million little deaths. I can't even talk any more about that because I'll just never eat anything again. Oh wait...that might not be a bad thing.
I had people ramming those enormous child-car carriages into my legs, reaching over me, bludgeoning me with coconuts, and literally taking shit right out of my cart...on purpose...not because they thought it was their own cart. But whatever. I survived.
I went over to the Dollar Store after food shopping. Again, clearly my power of levelheaded thinking had completely evaded me at this point. I was curious about the "Now accepting EBT cards" signs on the entrance. I wondered what the Dollar Store could offer for EBT cardholders.
Now before I "go there" let me confess that I'm actually kind of a socialist at heart. I think a government should provide for its citizens. I think of things like healthcare, higher education, and nutritious food as fundamental human rights.
However, I don't view "Burger King Onion Ring Chips" and "KFC chicken stock" as fundamental human rights. And yet...there at the Dollar Store, are people stocking up on these "essentials".
OK...I gotta run.
I have to delouse and sanitize myself in the shower following my filthy adventures in holiday retail.
