by Jimmy Ettele

Created on: September 21, 2007

I know I'm in trouble when I'm arguing with an 80 year old woman with an '86 Lincoln over whose spot in the parking lot it is. Possession of the parking spot is a fine line. You might think because your turn signal was on and you had spotted the opening first it would naturally belong to you? Tell that to Ma Kettle who has just flipped me off and swept her boat on wheels into "my" spot.

Not to worry, I'll find another spot. How many people can really be at the mall the Wednesday before Christmas Eve at 8pm?

Two hours later I'm parking. My hunger pangs were only muffled by the noise of people's horns so I finished off whatever was in the rest of that McDonald's coffee cup from Sunday and I found a mint hot glued to the inside of my armrest.

I better remember where I parked. Lot 'B' line 6. Got it. Let's get shopping.

By the time I'm halfway through the 10K walk to the front doors I realize I forgot my wallet. A few choice words under my breath make their way to the ears of a young boy going towards the entrance of the mall. His eyes open like it was his first time kissing a girl. "Oh, sorry about that little guy. Um, I'm not, uh, one of those guys, um, who puts those things in his, uh um, mouth. What I mean is..."
His mother quickly whisks him towards the front door. The expression on her face reads something like, "how in god's name am I going to stop him from saying that!"

I'm watching the two of them head towards where I want to be and then...HONK!
Holy cod oil! The elderly couple in the Cadillac Fleetwood apparently wanted to introduce their horn to my ears. I lean over on their hood trying to figure out where my heartbeat is when that old bastard does it again! I get the point, "Thank you. Merry Christmas", I point out to him as he pulls away. I think I just got flipped off again?

Okay, I have the wallet, I'm ready to roll. You know you're nearing the entrance when the din of the Christmas Carols increases. By the time I get to the actual door I have heard from Johnny Mathis, Connie Francis, and someone who's Grandma was run over by a reindeer. This of course is the same order they have been playing now for the past 8 weeks. I try to think back to a time when Christmas had started so early or when we began to forget about Halloween?

The bells attached to the glass door of the store mark my entrance into the store. A few of the seemingly thousand or so heads standing in line glance at my direction for an instant like a feeding animal in the forest who is only mildly

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