Dangers of last-minute shopping

‘Twas the procrastinator before Christmas, and all through the stores…

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town, every last minute shopper was wearing a frown. I come off the expressway, and what do I see? A long line of cars that wait in front of me. The garland was hung from all the street poles with care – in hopes to create some Christmas cheer there. Alas, though, no cheer could be found on this night. For every husband, teenager and procrastinator – such as myself – was dealing with this fright.

Last minute shopping — Procrastination is not the best medicine. Comic by Philip Andrews

Wards Road was a mess as I pulled off the highway. I banged on my steering wheel, wondering why I waited until today. Traffic was backed up as far as the eye could see. It seemed like all of Lynchburg had the same idea as me. Waiting til’ Christmas Eve to finish shopping posed quite the predicament. Similar to Black Friday – quite the equivalent! I could have been spending my night with eggnog and a story, but instead I stared at the pavement and all of its glory.

I listened to one song, two song, three song, four! And still at the stoplight I sat and I mourned. When I finally drove past Wal-Mart, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sea of cars in the parking lot caused me to shiver, so I thought maybe Target wouldn’t give me such a quiver. On I drove at five miles an hour, hoping to reach my shopping center destination. If only I could have pre-determined this situation.

Eventually, a parking spot several stores down I did find. My teeth chattered as I hurried up the sidewalk with what seemed like all of mankind.

Inside it was warmer, but that was the only comfort. There were so many people in Target that I felt completely inert. The aisles of the store were more chaotic than the streets outside. Each person pushed past others in an attempt to get by. I tried to peruse the toy aisle, but toys were strewn all about. Parents acted like children and didn’t keep things in their place. To me this was truly an utter disgrace. How was I to find the right Barbie or doll, when all I could find was a Nerf gun and rubber ball?

Even the gift cards in the checkout lane were all wrong. Only birthday and general ones left, I had to make due or stay bereft. The cashier scanned my items, a sad look on her face. I looked up to heaven and thanked God I didn’t work in this place.

Driving away from the store, I cried and cried. If ever I learned something important in my life, it was that Christmas Eve night is a time to stay inside, relax and – most importantly – to hide.

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