Okay, I’m done with Christmas shopping. I don’t mean I’m done, there are some of you on the Nice list for whom I have yet to purchase something you can unwrap and subsequently hide in a closet. I’m just done going to stores. I’m officially moving 100% of this operation online. I do most of it that way anyway, but my few ventures out have been filled with uncomfortable encounters with that horde of miscreants know as the general public.
There are too many of them out there and they are all up in my business. Now, when I say up in my business, I really mean UP IN MY BUSINESS. Last night a 10-year-old girl nearly rammed a box up my arse as I waited in line in Target to pay for things that quite frankly some of you don’t deserve. She was talking with her dad and not paying attention and was carrying it in front of her. The box corner was at the right (or wrong from my viewpoint) height for it to hit my right between the cheeks. Her father was oblivious.
Today, as we checked out at Dick’s, a lady started reaching around me to pile stuff on the counter. We had just started to check out ourselves. My wife laughed when I told her that if I had been in this woman’s personal space as much she was in mine, I would have been accused of sexual harassment.
But what I’ve experienced is nothing. Go to YouTube and search Black Friday fights. My favorite is the woman who refuses to loosen her death grip on the flat screen TV while she is being cuffed by the police!
So, I’m proposing a new way to do Christmas. Let’s eliminate shopping altogether. Let’s all send our Christmas lists to I don’t know… some arbiter of good and bad that can doll out our gifts based on merit. An organization that owns a global distribution network like Amazon that could process those gifts, wrap them, deliver them via reindeer looking drones. Maybe this company can select a mascot to head the marketing of such an effort. Someone fat and jolly owns a lot of red. A wise looking man with a silver beard?
I’m a fat man, but not jolly. That leaves me out. Besides, I can’t grow a decent looking beard. But maybe Jeff Bezos can play Santa Clause and save all of us the indignity of being probed in the Target checkout line.
Carry on, Citizens!
