The buzz of Commercialmas cheer has ended, and is now being replaced by irate and/or disillusioned customers protesting the fact that they can't return any of their gifts on Boxing Day or the Monday after that. Oddly enough we didn't a lot of those kinds of people, though it relieves me to say that despite the fact that we had signs saying we were not going to do returns or exhanges on Boxing Day...we were so damned quiet for most of the day that we figured we might as well do it anyways.

That's not to say the mall wasn't quiet. Quite the opposite in fact: by about noon, the place was crawling like a corpse covered in fire ants. (sorry, just finished watching an old CSI episode; couldn't help the festively morbid analogy.) So there our kiosk was, the small group of us standing still in a sea of moving people. I don't recommend watching swarms of moving people ebb and surge like that for long periods of time; it can make you dizzy surprisingly fast. Of course, as mentioned earlier, this didn't happen until about noon. For three hours prior, I was standing around on my own at the kiosk, bored out of my skull.

Now I can appreciate Boxing Day sales. Our Canadian Boxing Day shopping frenzy is akin to the States' Black Friday (the day after their Thanksgiving). But why in God's holy name would you open a bloody mall at eight in the morning, forcing most of us poor retail-working bastards to show up before sunrise after having worked almost two weeks straight as it is? More to the point: why in the hell are you shopping at a mall at eight in the morning the bloody day after Christmas? I swear, I would have shot anyone remarking how they "felt tired" anytime that morning. Feeling tired, are you? Yawning a lot, are you? Here's a tip, and I know it's a crazy, novel idea, but maybe--just maybe--you'll discover that it can help us both: Sleep in!

Wow, what a mad-capped concept! I am boggled by the sheer ingenuity of people actually taking the day off and sleeping in and lounging around for a day. Most people complain about how busy they are on Christmas Day: running around with presents, making dinner and cleaning up afterwards, visiting family & friends or having them visit, contending with excited kids hopped up on sugar. I hold little mercy to the people who do all this, and then bitch about it at 8:30am the next day as their running rampant around the mall. You're tired? You're whining? Look at me, you silly bastards! I did all that myself, and then I had to show up here just to cater to your obssessive-complusive, consumeristic urges. If I had my way, I'd be in possessing of a Customer Appreciation Taser instead of just a Customer Appreciation Scarf.

But that's just the cynical asshole in me.

All in all, it could have been worse. Our kiosk was quiet despite the crowds, whereas some places had to close most of their doors just to control the amount of people crowding their store. Last year, I was psyched out, fearing for my life as Boxing Day pirhanas descended upon us like the Nazgul upon Minas Tirith. (sorry; just finished watching the happy new Return of the King: Extended Edition DVD last night too.) I was almost to the point of puking my guts out in sheer paranoia. This year, after having survived it once and discovered (at least for us), it was a laugh, I barely cared at all. And it worked. I left tired, though mostly from the day before.

And that is my Boxing Day rant.

Tune in next time, when you'll hear my friends in the Customer Sevice department say, "What is this you're saying, Sir? 'Do you know who I am?' Well, in fact, Sir, I do: you are a whiny little man with a bad sense of fashion, an even worse toupee, and probably in possession of children who smoke pot just so they don't have to put up with your egotistical drivel and penile insecurities. And if there is in fact a God out there, I would prostrate myself before this God and on behalf of the human race beg for forgiveness for having let the gene pool cough up such a self-important turd like you. Next!"

Today's Lesson: venting is catharsis. Savour the sarcasm....