Shopping Insanity in the Festering Season
So far this year, I thought I'd done pretty well with my temper, my dislike of Christmas, but today's been one of those "final straw" moments, what with one thing and another.
Normally I try and avoid having to shop in the city during the month before Christmas - there are certain things that just go beyond the pale, and being in the midst of a horde of materialism-crazed shoppers two weekends before christmas pretty much covers the entire waterfront of things I'd rather not be doing. But on this occasion I had to be in the city centre - not for Christmas-related things, but instead for concert tickets, Massive Attack released the tickets for the tour today, and they're one of the few bands I've never managed to see, so yes, the tickets were important. Call it a Christmas present to myself.
As it is, I don't mind the actual city centre, nor do I mind the decorations - it's the people I have a problem with. Dithering about, no real idea what they want or where they're going, totally unaware of anyone else around them. I've never understood how people can do that - just wander around, stopping randomly, no consciousness of the other people walking near them, past them, towards them, really just no consciousness at all. So they whiffle around, and for anyone who wants to get through the crowds quickly and easily, it's a nightmare. Of course, that's just out on the main streets - the shops are worse.
And why is it that when people know it's going to be jammed rigid in town, and there's absolutely fuck all chance of rain/snow, do they take bastard umbrellas with them? As I've said before, most people can't control umbrellas when they're open, but you'd think that something like a glorified stick wouldn't produce too much of a problem - guess again. So I've now got a divot out of my shin where I got stabbed by one idiot - purely accidentally of course, but still, it makes me think people should have a licence to possess the bloody things. Of course, it also made me glad I'm not a Russian defector... And what happened? Not even n apology, just "Oh, you must think I'm so silly, doing that" I think that perhaps the response of "Oh, just get out my way, you simpering idiot" was slightly understated - I didn't even swear at her, which surprised me afterwards.
And what is it around this time of year that makes brass bands imagine they're popular? There were four sets of the bastards around the town centre, as well as the regular buskers, the git who plays the blues sat under an umbrella, the string quartet stood outside boots, the big issuer seller with the dog and the penny whistle - oh, and the full Jamaican steel band in the middle of the Printworks.
So all told, the entire day was a mess of materialism and crowds. I've managed to get out of it with a chunk out of my leg, three Massive Attack tickets, a couple of other odds and sods, and sky-high blood-pressure. Which seems to be pretty much what the festering season is all about.
Normally I try and avoid having to shop in the city during the month before Christmas - there are certain things that just go beyond the pale, and being in the midst of a horde of materialism-crazed shoppers two weekends before christmas pretty much covers the entire waterfront of things I'd rather not be doing. But on this occasion I had to be in the city centre - not for Christmas-related things, but instead for concert tickets, Massive Attack released the tickets for the tour today, and they're one of the few bands I've never managed to see, so yes, the tickets were important. Call it a Christmas present to myself.
As it is, I don't mind the actual city centre, nor do I mind the decorations - it's the people I have a problem with. Dithering about, no real idea what they want or where they're going, totally unaware of anyone else around them. I've never understood how people can do that - just wander around, stopping randomly, no consciousness of the other people walking near them, past them, towards them, really just no consciousness at all. So they whiffle around, and for anyone who wants to get through the crowds quickly and easily, it's a nightmare. Of course, that's just out on the main streets - the shops are worse.
And why is it that when people know it's going to be jammed rigid in town, and there's absolutely fuck all chance of rain/snow, do they take bastard umbrellas with them? As I've said before, most people can't control umbrellas when they're open, but you'd think that something like a glorified stick wouldn't produce too much of a problem - guess again. So I've now got a divot out of my shin where I got stabbed by one idiot - purely accidentally of course, but still, it makes me think people should have a licence to possess the bloody things. Of course, it also made me glad I'm not a Russian defector... And what happened? Not even n apology, just "Oh, you must think I'm so silly, doing that" I think that perhaps the response of "Oh, just get out my way, you simpering idiot" was slightly understated - I didn't even swear at her, which surprised me afterwards.
And what is it around this time of year that makes brass bands imagine they're popular? There were four sets of the bastards around the town centre, as well as the regular buskers, the git who plays the blues sat under an umbrella, the string quartet stood outside boots, the big issuer seller with the dog and the penny whistle - oh, and the full Jamaican steel band in the middle of the Printworks.
So all told, the entire day was a mess of materialism and crowds. I've managed to get out of it with a chunk out of my leg, three Massive Attack tickets, a couple of other odds and sods, and sky-high blood-pressure. Which seems to be pretty much what the festering season is all about.
