Christmas-eque

I haven’t been one to get festive for the holiday season. I don’t think I’ve ever put out a Christmas tree or décor in my apartment. I don’t recall having put a turkey in the oven while caroling a few tunes, No Boney M to report (or to hark away) while I don myself in a festive sweater either.
Now before you paint me up to be a mean one, I must say that I do enjoy a container of eggnog, or even a little eggnog from my favorite Starbucks. I’m not too sure why that eggnog only comes in this festive season, but I do make due of the enjoyment of it. After all, it is the most wonderful time of the year.
Another past-time is watching people get frazzled in the hype of it all. And where else better can you watch the frenzy but at a local mall? Ah, the local mall; a big domicile pumped with its own atmosphere of indoor shopping displays, bargains and blue-light specials.
A once quiet place in the offseason becomes a very vibrantly (crazy) alive (chaotic) un-mass controlled shoppers. And, oh, how they do come, come all ye faithful, pah-rum-pah-pum-pum.
It is quite amusing to watch people with bags and bags of stuff grasped in both hands, scurrying through the swarm of other bagged shoppers and festive patriots. Shoppers madly trampled their way through one end of the mall to the other, trying not to plow down a head-on collision. Like watching snowflakes move into your REZ car window, it’s only inevitable. Oh, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Snow indeed does fall as a bell can be heard at a Mall entrance way. I passed by one myself, seeing a lone person guarding a little clear plastic ball with a little change and a few coloured bills in its secure dome. They look in gratitude to those who do stop and drop a few dollars (or cents). It’s a fun little gig, especially volunteering your time for that charitable work (Told you, I’m not as grinchy as you think).
The out-of-breath shopper cannot stop; the end is so near, reads on their faces so easily as I sip away at my eggnog. What happened to that Christmas-eque depiction of a happy smiling family, making an outing of it? Where’s the deck the halls, that bounds of holly? They do persist though, and they do continue onwards through their feat, feet, as if to say they will not be defeated. Onward, clutching down on their bags, into the madness and getting lost into the abyss.
Faces have all become the same, and all a-blur and frantically getting to their destinations. Different shades of colour fly by me and my comfortable bench. I keep watching for Arnold and Sinbad to rush by, looking for that treasured must-have. They don’t though, but there are those that have that same look about their faces. I do not bother to count the numbers of peoples anymore; I am a mere spectator in this joyous marathon, going fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Strollers and sometimes both parents push their way through the crowds, as a baby sleeps away in their protected manger. Their winter coats and other outer winter attire lay atop of the stroller’s roof. Stroller makes like an ambulance (most of the time) and quite easily makes an accessible route for the parent. They are a calm family, carefully making their way through crowds, heading towards that big fluorescent sign up yonder.
The jovial music from overhead continues to be audible from time to time from where it is that I am seated. Amongst the galloping of voices and fusses, the music reigns true. I can make out a few of the memorable numbers. Bowie sings about peace on earth in a duet with Bing Crosby, while The Pointer Sisters sing about someone coming to town. I keep waiting to hear about wanting two front teeth, or even wanting a hippotamus. Better yet, I keep waiting to drift off into my memorable bank, hoping to hear about if we really know it’s Christmas?
The cafeteria is filled of food and drinks, and chitter-chatter. I can see friendly faces, some of the tired and weary, but still greeting another one and lips are still moving. I can see exchanges of friendship as people do find friends within the hordes of masses. Most of these encounters are brief because most have a lot on their list, a list of who’s naughty or who’s nice. Yet, from where I sit, from the comforts of my bench, I continue to sip my favorite beverage of eggnog...
(to be continued)