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Dec 21
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Sunday night at Macy’s should never be dangerous. It should be quiet. Nearly empty. Devoid of small children. One certainly shouldn’t need body armor.
But there I was, standing on the carpeted edge of the walkway, waiting politely to pay for one, small item. I saw a blur of blue and white motion to the right. I turned just in time to see a guy in his late 20s zip around the corner, wielding what must have been at least 30 pounds of toddler. The stroller was decorated with at least another 20 pounds of stuff, dangling dangerously from a brightly colored collection of plastic shopping bags.
With maybe five seconds to spare, I leaped backward as he swerved away from the great, open space of the walkway, and headed straight for me.
I’m not sure why he needed to run me over with a loaded stroller, but he didn’t seem terribly concerned about my plight as he skidded past me with his wife close at his heels. I heard a short, “’Scuse me,” as he mowed me over. I assumed he was talking to me at the time, but he never actually looked in my direction so he could have been talking to his invisible friend for all I know.
Luckily, I wasn’t injured. The tie rack behind me had lots of little arms on it which conveniently lodged themselves into my flesh, effectively stopping me from moving at all. If I’d knocked over the huge display behind the tie rack, that would have been embarrassing.
It was almost eight o’clock in the evening, and the department store had pretty much emptied out. No one else was around, so I dusted myself off, muttered an unkind word about his parentage, and left. I figured that as late as it was, and being a Sunday, I had a pretty good chance of survival in the mall.
Stepping out of Macy’s, I found the rest of the people who’d been inside along with their extended families. I’m pretty sure there were a few serial killers out there, too.
With my amazing mental powers, I controlled my bodily functions and did not sweat or show my terror in any other way. Strong and controlled, I tried desperately to maintain my requisite three feet of personal space. That lasted maybe five minutes, and I determined to make them pay for it.
That didn’t last long either. It was like I’d stepped onto a giant pool table, and I was the ball. I banked and shot myself from store to store, never actually making it inside any of them. I was just trying to get to my car on the other side of the mall. Around a corner. Up an embankment. In the cold.
The people in the middle of the mall converged into a small army of strollers. I avoided them warily, knowing how dangerous those people could be from my earlier encounter. But also because two-thirds of them looked like they were on the edge of a dangerous precipice, and I didn’t want to be the one to tip the balance and cause another riot.
People were beating each other up over toys the week before. My kids wear me out; I’m too tired to fight crazy people in crowded shopping malls. Thankfully, getting to the Starbucks didn’t require a black belt or anything beyond basic gymnastics.
At nearly nine o’clock, I reached the upstairs mall exit where my car was parked. Climbing inside, I placed my small, precious bag of gifts gingerly on the passenger seat and laid my head on my steering wheel. I nearly sobbed with relief.
Half an hour later I was home, renewing my love affairs with Amazon.com and eBay. It’s been three weeks, and I’m afraid to go back. But if I don’t, there will be small, disappointed people on Christmas morning.
As I write these final words for 2006, I face the darkness of the unknown with fear in my heart. Tomorrow, I’m braving the mall with my friend. We’ve been working on a strategic defense plan all week, and I think we have a good chance of coming out of this alive. And mostly in one piece. Yes, I’ll be armed.
To those of you out there who still have shopping to do, I have only these words of wisdom to strengthen you:
1) don’t go out there alone because they outnumber you by several orders of magnitude;
2) take a full water bottle with you – it’s good self-defense;
3) even if you’d gone shopping a month ago it wouldn’t change anything; and
4) watch out for the crazy guy with the blue and white stroller.
Happy holidays, and have a safe New Year.
