Wossname's Christmas Message of Peace and Tolerance.

[wossname]

In this time of happiness and friendship I beg you all to pause for a moment to think of those less fortunate than ourselves. I had occasion to meet a few of them today while finishing off my Christmas shopping.

- The gentleman (lets call him Peter) who crashed his shopping trolley into my shin in Tesco.
- The jolly and festive (read fat and gobby) middle-aged woman (Marjorie) propelling a large pushchair around the narrow thoroughfares of Waterstones, pushing in front of me in the queue for the tills.
- The two "Amnesty International" cup-rattlers (Lisa and Eduardo) that were clearly tag-teaming on the highstreet and somehow conspired to make me miss the bus home.

Now I hear you cry, "Surely those people made you less fortunate, not the other way around?". Well my friends, gather round with your cocoa and eggnog and I'll tell you...

I left my home with a sense of contentment because my final festive errands of generosity will soon be accomplished and doing so in the first minutes after the stores open will help to ensure that this state of affairs is observed with expediency.

I ventured into the first shop, prepared for heaving crowds. Happily I was unencumbered by ignorant staff and was able to hold a polite conversation with the very attractive young lady at the electrical goods counter. That was an indulgence on my part because I had no reason to be in that area of the shop at all. I proceeded to the jewelry department and purchased some tasteful but modest cuff-links.

Then it was a brisk perambulation to a well known supermarket to purchase some cheese-based light snacks for the forthcoming festivities. It was this moment that Fortune deemed suitable for my encounter with Peter.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" he exclaimed, in tones resonant with guilt and regret.
"(****)...(arrrgghhh)... I'll ... be fine in a moment." I replied, and in doing so expending much of my portable supply of yuletide cheer.

No matter. Not to be deterred, I continued on my quest to obtain nibbles and crackers. I left Tesco with, a sense of satisfaction, some amusingly shaped appetizers and a suspected fracture.

Next, to Waterstones! I enjoy Waterstones. I like the atmosphere of thousands of fresh new tomes resting on their alphabetically alliterative cul-de-sacs in suburbs filled with their intellectual peers. I find it restful. Restful in say, July, when the shady avenues of literature are free from morons. Today, however, things were different.

Marjorie, bless her, blatantly shoved in front of me with about eight books to purchase. I normally wouldn't mind such an intrusion from a person so enthusiastic about reading. It is Christmas after all. But then the woman proceeded to exhume from the noisome depths of her handbag, her chip-and-pin card. Seasonal good will all but abandoned me at that point.

A deep breath and my attention was drawn to half a dozen Nintendo DS games on the stall next to us. It's a good job none of them fell into the woman's pushchair. That would have been most embarrassing for the woman upon exiting the store.

My mental dashboard was now showing a blinking yellow light with a Christmas tree emblem on it.

Later that morning Lisa the Amnesty International person sidled onto a collision course with me as I strode with grim determination toward my final waypoint before exfiltration.

"I'm sorry, I can't stop to talk." said I.
"Okay, Merry Christmas" said she.

Then Eduardo blind-sided me. "Hi there, what's your name?"
"**** off ... Eduardo, what the hell kind of name is that anyway? God damnit!"

Then I came home again. On the wrong bus.