I went to the mall. It ate my soul.

I went to the mall today.

It was a colossal FAIL. On many levels, in many ways.

I was assaulted by unpleasantness from the moment I walked in the door. There were throngs of angsty teenagers in skinny jeans and neon paint splattered hoodies crowding the food court. I could not figure out why the hell there was a field trip to the mall when I remembered that it is Winter Break (otherwise known as Christmas Vacation). I decided that my hunger could wait and I moved on to store #1.

It was there that I was assaulted by people at the other end of the age spectrum. Store #1 was full of little old ladies who wanted nothing more than to shuffle slowly in front of me and then turn around, not to get out of my way, but to coo at my sleeping baby. Multiple blue hairs tried to actually touch him. A SLEEPING BABY. Clearly they were oblivious to my scathing Grinch eye. I moved on to store #2.

This store was full of college age males, some there under the pretense of working, some not. I did not last long in this store. They were operating at a level of douche-baggery that can only be achieved by 18-20 year old males who haven’t quite recovered from the previous night’s hangover. I did not trust my ability to refrain from kicking them all in the junk.

Hunger was taking over, I retreated back to the food court.

The angsty teenagers were still there.

I stood patiently in line to get my over-sized slice of pizza behind a gaggle of them. The two girls in front of me are lucky that they will still be able to bear children someday because I came dangerously close to punching them in the baby makers. The woman who works the register at the pizza place has severe hand/finger deformities, her fingers are very short and do not bend. She is still amazingly adept at what she does. The idiot girl in front of me paid with wadded up cash from her pocket. I’m not kidding, she threw 7 individually wadded up bills on the counter and then WATCHED as the poor woman struggled to straighten and count them.

I finally got my lukewarm slice of pizza and sat down to eat. I was lucky enough to be sitting right next to Blair Waldorf 2.0 (now in miniture bite-sized goodness) complete with her two lemming friends. I was about to school them in the fine art of making fun of classmates without being totally obvious when I noticed my other neighbor staring at me. I glanced over and was shocked to find someone over the age of 18 in my vicinity. Some other poor sap surrounded by the idiocy that is junior high students. Then I realized he was checking me out. I found it odd until I realized that it was either ogle the chic with the baby or jail-bait. Sigh.

I moved on to store #3. I must have been daydreaming because I doddled a little too slowly past the crazy mall kiosk guy. Seriously he works like 6 of them. Is it just me, or do those fools get really over-aggressive around this time of year. When I realized he was pushing his wares on me I panicked and mumbled something and pretended to answer my non-ringing phone.

I managed to escape him only to run into the creepy elf lady outside Santa’s Workshop. No! No I would NOT like to have my baby’s picture taken with Santa, I have already endured that torture once this year. I was barely past this obstacle when I began my approach to the final store. It was then that I heard the bell, you know the one. The tiny jingle that no one can escape during the holiday season. No one told me that they have moved the bell ringers indoors. Also, why do they always choose individuals who have no concept of personal space.

After all of this I am sad to say I didn’t even get what I was after. What is this elusive gift I am after you ask?

A duffel bag.

A freaking duffel bag for my husband.

Clearly everything bad that happens to me is his fault.

Disagree with me and I’ll punch YOU in the baby maker.

Happy Friggin Holidays! (avoid the mall)