Baby it's cold inside.

I did it. I actually went into a shopping mall on the second Saturday before Christmas. For some strange reason I thought I could follow a well planned strategy that would have me return 2 items and make one purchase and be out again within an hour.

What was I thinking? I must have been hopped after having too many coffees yesterday. I was all jolly and perky when Olivia and I headed out. I even remained cheery during the find-a-parking-spot scrum. I even smiled at the guy in the red pick-up who honked his horn at me. My teeth were gritted though.

I regained complete happy status when we chanced upon an up close spot. I started out at Limited Two. I don't like Limited Too. If you don't have a preteen girl then you have no idea how a store can come off as a way-too-sweet, candy coated, flashing lights, lots of Hannah Montana music blasting shopping party. Olivia is into it and I make sure I am always there to guide her toward the more appropriate clothing choices. Anything Brittany Spears might ever consider wearing is out. Anything with writing on it's bum is out. It's cheap stuff with an exorbitant price tag. It's at this place that during any transaction you get the third degree. You have to supply them with your zip code and the birthday month of the girl you are shopping for before you can hand over your money. This irks me. After waiting for 20 minutes to make the return, then giving up all the personal info I am requested to show my drivers licence to make the return. Deeper irking. My smile is gone. Now they want my debit card to make the return. I don't have it on me, I'll take the $28. in cash. Apparently not. They can only make the return to the same card I used. I point out that I am returning defective merchandise....a pair of boots that frayed before Olivia's foot ever went into them. Too bad for me, they start writing out a store credit. I don't want to return to Limited Two, especially after the treatment I have received in the preceding 4 minutes. I tell them fine, but I want the number to your head office, they can send me a check.

Next stop is a store with a line so long I will not stand for another 20 minutes to get my arse kicked by their clerks. What happened to the arse kissing you get when your buying their stuff? Then we proceed to the one store I want to make a quick purchase in. Ah, see I'm buying something, so it's all smiles and happiness. Then I approach the till. I had forgotten the purchase interrogation that must take place before I am permitted to take home their stuff. Zip code, email address first please. The gentleman checking out beside me refuses to give the zip. This is cause for a lot of huffing and puffing. The clerk does not know how to proceed without his name. rank and serial number. I chuckle to myself and smile at him. "Your not going to be a statistic for them are you?" He smiles back knowingly. I'm taking his lead from now on. No you can't have my zip code, birth date, drivers licence, email address. And no, I don't want to be on your mailing list, but you just keep on smiling sister, cause you still want the sale right?

I walked out through a splashy department store to return to the car, but not before witnessing an impossibly tall, stick-thin couple sashay down the walkway. She sported her sunglasses, he a long black trench coat. They both had an air of pomposity, noses in the air. They seemed to have an odd bluish/grey cast to their skin. "Look", I said to Olivia. "Even the vampires are here shopping, no wonder it's so busy."

Freeing ourselves from the mall parking lot was another test of Christmas spirit, but Olivia and I shared a bag of popcorn and turned up the Christmas music, oblivious to the honking horns or accompanying hand gestures.