Yes, that's right, the Christmas season is once again in full swing and, as usual, it's making me fucking sick.
Remember the days when the Christmas season didn't start till the day after Thanksgiving? I remember it because I used to bitch about that being too soon, but this year it started THE DAY AFTER FUCKING HALLOWEEN. I suppose I should be grateful that they waited till after Halloween, but I know that they only waited because of all the effort they've put into making Halloween more like Christmas. Perhaps the only thing that will push back the tide of the red and green menace will be the advent of goddamn Thanksgiving lights, whatever the fuck those are gonna look like... (And you know they're fucking coming)
But apart from the over-commercialization of what is supposed to be the birthday celebration of a man that was born into poverty and shunned material possessions what really pisses me off about the Christmas season is the shoppers. It’s no secret that I hate people. People suck. (Rest assured however, if you read this blog you’re on the short list of people that I can at least tolerate.) And since I hate people, and the shopping season brings them all out, I REALLY hate the motherfucking-shopping season.
Here’s a prime example of my disgust: One of my roommates, Nate (actually he’s more of a tenant now since he’s paying me rent, but anyways…) works near the mall. Since he doesn’t drive, I typically drop him off. Thing is, since about the day after Halloween the traffic has been getting shittier, and shittier, and ever more shitty. So I’m at the intersection after having dropped Nate off. It’s three lanes crossing four lanes. I’m in a lane that has the option of turning left or going straight. Across from me is a right turn only lane, meaning that they have to yield to my lane as I have the option to go straight. Now, nobody in that lane EVER yields. EVER. Even though there is a ‘YEILD’ sign prominently displayed. Today was no different, but since it’s the goddamn shopping season the traffic was thicker than ever and two people attempted to cut me off.
Now at this point I need to explain something. I drive a 1975 Ford Maverick and it is my most prized possession. However, a few years ago I was in a supermarket parking lot and someone hit me. Not badly, but enough to total their car. Both of their passenger doors were totally inoperable. I got a quarter-inch scratch on the chrome of my rear bumper, (which I still fuss over). It was then that I realized that in a game of automotive rock-paper-scissors my car trumps anything of comparable size, provided that it was built after the 1970’s.
So, already pissed at the heavy traffic, I see there two cars in motion to cut me off. The first car was a blue Geo. No problem. My car could roll down a street paved with Geos and I’d hardly feel a damn bump. The second car was some sort of SUV, I’m not sure what kind, but I was pretty sure I could get in there anyway, and besides, I had already committed to the turn before I saw the gas-sucking monstrosity.
So I mash the accelerator. I actually get in between the two cars when the old fart in the Geo STOPS. Right there, dead in the middle of the fucking road, he fucking STOPS. The goddamn soccer-Mom in the SUV, however, does not. With reflexes that surprise even me (and I have a pretty high fucking opinion of myself) I manage to pull back out from between them and into another lane just as Soccer-Mom squeals her brakes and slides through the space that I had briefly occupied to just barely avoid hitting the Geo.
Damn good thing I fixed the power steering the other day.
Oh well, back into the breech, dear friends. I have to go across town to the bank. Pray for those that get in front of my fucking machine.