Day 6: Christmas Shopping

Obviously I would follow up that depression meeting at Hillhurst United Church last week with a trip to Chinook Mall for Christmas shopping this week. The drive to Chinook Mall was a piece of yule log and holy night the mall parking lot was crazy. There was even a policeman directing the car traffic. In a parking lot. Once again, this merry season presents itself to me through wondrous bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Just walking into the mall I could see the greed in people’s eyes, especially the children. I walked by some kids in line to see Santa and I overheard each of them telling their parents what they’ll be asking Santa for. I shudder to think that children can be indoctrinated by our consumer driven world at such a young age. They’re already starting to think about what they want tomorrow, while ignoring what they have today. The hustle and bustle happening in the mall was so unnerving; I hadn’t even begun my shopping and already, I was ready to get out of there.

It felt a bit like this:

Store after store, and nothing was catching my eye for the people I had planned to buy gifts for, including Cindy. I think after going to 115 out of the 250 stores I found a potential gift for Cindy but it carried a price tag that made me exclaim out loud, drawing shocked looks from random strangers. I remember her squeels of excitement whenever we passed Pandora’s and her quivering hand that pointed at their charm bracelets. I sheepishly told the salesperson I would think about it since I’m not sure how willing I am to spend an arm and a leg for a Pandora bracelet.

I was getting pretty sick of the holly jolly crap in the mall, so I got ready to head out. I passed more shoppers with greed in their eyes, and then as I was about to head out, I noticed a bin for the Calgary Food Bank. I decided that this trip shouldn’t be a total waste and headed to Zellers to pick up a pack of mac n’ cheese that I deposited with the food bank. As I was about to leave the mall, I received a text message that was a surprising lift to my spirits.

Score.

I got home, and soon after, Cindy was at my front door with the biggest grin on her face. I wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing. Cindy, in her sickly sweet sense of mind, decided to get me an early Christmas gift. How wonderfully charming. Then, in her kindest, most wonderfully convincing voice, says that I now have something to wear to dinner with her parents.

Joy to the World.

And that’s another reason why I hate Christmas.

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