Where are you Christmas? Why can't I find you? As I sit here enjoying the serenity of the cottage, snuggled up on the couch with hot cocoa, dreaming of sugar plums and fairies I can't help but think of the sinful revulsion that is taking place in a mall near you. At this very moment vultures are circling mall parking lots in the hopes of snatching a spot close to the door, people are waiting in unfathomably long lines outside of Abercrombie and Fitch, exit ramps on the highways are completely blocked and human beings are literally trampling all over each other while visions of Sporting Life sales dance in their heads. What would drive humanity to this type of insane, barbaric madness you ask? Oh yeah, the 20% off sale on tee shirts, potpourri and the rest of the shit that didn't sell out during the Christmas rush.
While I know it's the holiday season and I should be upbeat and happy, I can't help but think of how much I hate Boxing Day. Perhaps what bothers me the most about this day of hell on earth is the hypocrisy that surrounds it. You know the types, those people who get up on their altruistic soapboxes preaching about how Christmas has become too commercialized, how its meaning has been lost, blah blah blah. These Christian Gestapo fill our heads with messages of how Christmas is about caring, sharing and giving; being thankful for what you have and yet a mere 24 hours later these same Christly martyrs can be seen at Vaughan Mills, snarling anyone who attempts to get at the last pair of size 7 UGG boots. The irony of this absolutely kills me due to the fact that not a year, a month, or a week but ONE DAY later and the messages of the Christmas spirit, love, and kindness are not only forgotten, but have been traded, raped and pillaged for a $2 off sale on tank tops at Aritzia. Where are your morals people?!?! Where is your integrity, care, sense of self worth!?! Apparently, these characteristics have been lost somewhere between Bass Pro shop and the underwear bin in La Senza, but not to worry, a spare dose of selflessness is kept in the glove box of your car and can be accessed once you've cursed your way out of the parking lot and have satisfied your urge to shop.
It all plays out like a sick and twisted version of Lord of the Flies: survival of the fittest. Only, this time the setting is in a shopping mall, the conch has been replaced with a loudspeaker and Piggy is that elderly woman you gunned down for that handicapped spot in the parking lot.
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