Click for more information.
view counter

Christmas-que, Part 2

Thursday December 20, 2012

I sit on a mall bench (if there is any to avail) along side with a few shoppers, exhausted and burning the candles at both ends. A quick break (or not) and they’re off, into the rapid movement, jumping like a salmon going upstream, succeeding towards their goal. I’ll just sip my eggnog (from Starbucks) and smile for a bit.

I do not even have too much time to get into a Gump mode, and talk about how life is like a box of chocolates, or find out how comfortable their shoes are. I know that the shopper doesn’t have a whole lot of time for me to examine their footwear; where they’re going, or where they’ve been. But I’m sure they do wish they had some magic shoes this fine December Holiday season.

The continuous droves and the masses, the winterized bundled families that swirl into the muddle mixture of frantic shoppers attempt to make plans on where they will meet. Dad’s eyeing up electronics; mom’s seeing a sale; daughter’s texting an OMG, while son’s got high expectations for a “... Red Ryder carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle.” A plan is made and a plan is settled: dad’s got the winterized belonging duty while the family unit disperses in all different direction.

Santa’s workshop and a displayal of his North Pole home are centered in the centre of a mall, where all magic begins. Painted up is a frosted North Pole sign to the side of an enormous comfortable chair, lined of red velvet (Looks comfortable, from where I can observe, from the comforts of my bench). A sign in the front reads if Santa’s taking on wishes, or is on break; parents stand in line with their children. Eventually Santa does takes on candy-glazed-eyed children, all hoping to be on Santa’s good list, while parents sneak off to make those dreams happen. I don’t think I could take on a Santa position; my eyes would read to sympathize, or I would tell them the truth: you’ll shoot your eye out, kid.

Greens of wreath stretch across the hall, connecting one merchant to another. Like a spindled spiderweb that catches the morning dew in its webbing, lights sparkle within the green. Surely, a shopper does take time to marvel; maybe another day. Displays of red and green, and sometimes gold, ornaments hang about around the mall ceiling, walls and sometime the floor.
Gigantic glass (or plastic) coloured balls that would take down a Charlie Brown tree, hang way up, and securely.

The mall clock chimes out a certain carol from a distance, where I can still hear it hourly and quarterly. However, if I counted correctly, that last chime rung its inevitable timely demise: quarter to the last hour! Panic does begin to dimmer down a little more, and I find the rapid movement of the mallers has begun to slow down to steady and calmer pace. It’s that time to throw in the towel, as shoppers make their slowly way out. Hopefully, now the Carpenters will lull some children to sleep about being home for Christmas tonight.

Gates from the secret wall of a familiar store draws closer to a close, as the last customer makes an indecisive decision on what item to purchase. Tired and often overworked, staff have their own families to get back to, as they smile their wishful goodbyes to an indecisive customer. Just pick the red one; they can return the gift if they don’t like your choice, I think to myself as if I can read the staff gatekeeper’s thought.

A lowly janitor sighs at the salted floors as the crowds begin to move from an entourage to a slower last handful. Broom in hand, he leans against the wall, waiting for more patrons to vacate. I am sure his work overwhelmingly (underpaid) vital to this holiday time. Perhaps a little plastic ball should be made for him and his work as well.

The King is left to serenade to me about a Blue Christmas; his hunka-hunka voices echoes throughout the mall walls, following his back-up ooh-ooh-ooh female voices. Santa’s sign reads that he’s already left the building, leaving a vacant red velvet seat.

I sip the last of my eggnog special, and ho-ho-ho into the city festive lights, ever watchful for a reindeer sleigh not to run me over.

Be safe this Holiday Season, my relatives.

Email to a Friend
qr code
add to

Stumble It!

Post new comment

Comment policy

All comments submitted to Wawatay News Online must have a correct name, location and email address of the user. Wawatay will not approve comments without the required information.

The approval of comments will also be subjected to relevancy, laws of defamation and good taste.

Once posted, comments become the property of Wawatay News. Wawatay News reserves the right to publish or use this comment in any way in the future for online use, in print, and by any other media at the discretion of Wawatay News.

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.