On Christmas Shopping.

Yesterday, three things occurred to me.

First, there is nothing quite like the ambiguity of a honking car horn.

I was doing my Christmas shopping (yes, all of it.) and the streets surrounding the mall entrances were, as could be expected, packed with people who, like me, had procrastinated a great deal about buying gifts for their loved ones. As an aside, my general philosophy is that if you subscribe to this method of gift-buying, you should be prepared to be very patient and preferably even cheerful on the day you chose to cross off your friends and family members like so many items on a to-do list. Nevertheless, most other seasonal procrastinators do not share my view on the matter, and it became apparent as I made the man in the car behind me very, very angry.

I was waiting to turn left. We all were, actually. Together. We, the people of the left turn lanes, were waiting communally. To turn left. And as everyone knows, a group of people in relatively close proximity who share a common goal will almost always do everything they can to be angry at each other. So there was a green arrow, and some cars ahead of me, as is their wont, turned left. The light turned yellow and the intersection was completely choked with cars. I stopped, as is my wont. The man in the truck behind me gesticulated wildly out his window and shouted and honked. Someone else honked. The two of them honked back and forth for the entire duration of the red light in what I would if ignorant of the circumstances assume to be a jocular exercise in musical improvisation using such limited means as they had. Since I had already resolved, given my philosophy, to be patient and possibly even cheerful, I pretended this was the case.

Second, if your luck is bad enough, intelligence actually works to your disadvantage. I worked that one out myself.

Third, never buy anything from a Yankee candle shop. I left "candle" uncapitalized on purpose as a play on words, because there seems to be some kind of cultural consensus that makes me think people dislike Yankees and things associated with Yankees, and furthermore that Yankees are known for doing dishonest things with your money. So that statement includes not just candle shops operated by the Yankee Candle Company, but any candle shop run by a Yankee.

I was in the mall, after having arrived there in a manner previously discussed, looking for my last gift, which I resolved should be something that smelled good, for my dad and stepmom. I was hoping to find a tea shop, or even a chocolatier, but the first place I stumbled upon was the afforementioned Yankee candle shop. I went in and was warmly greeted by a cheerful, if not patient, salesman. Our banter went like this:

"Hello, how are you doing today?"

"I'm doing reasonably well, thanks. How are you?"

"I'm doing pretty well. Are you finding everything all right?"

"Well, I suppose so. Actually I just walked in, and don't exactly know what I'm looking for."

"Oh, so you'll have two of everything?"

"Yes. Wonderful."

"It'll last your whole life!"

"Which is how long I will spend paying off the student loan I'll need to take out!"

"Hahaha."

I probably wouldn't have made this joke had I known how close to true it was, and I didn't know because the prices, in true Yankee fashion, were nowhere to be found. Nonetheless, I looked around briefly and selected a modestly sized scented candle. I carried it to the register, where a considerably less jovial employee waited to take my money. He asked me if anyone had helped me, and I told him yes, the jovial chap in the front, and he mentioned that for only three dollars more I could have the bigger candle. That's all right, I said. The small one will do. But the bigger one has twice the burn time, he informed me. It didn't make sense to me that he was giving me this information since I had very plainly just told him that the small candle was the one I wanted to buy. Nevertheless, I humored him and reiterated that I was in fact going to purchase the candle that I had selected and brought to the counter. It seemed really obvious to me, though. He then asked for my phone number so that "they" (who?) could send me coupons. "There is no part of me that wants coupons," is the first thing that came to mind. Secondly, "How does knowing my phone number allow you to send me things that are traditionally made of paper?" As all this was swirling about my suspicious but still patient brain, I told him that's all right, I have no need of or desire for coupons. He respnded by informing me that they would not call or sell my information. Once again, his comments were not high ranking on the relevance scale. I had not expressed any kind of concern about being called or having my information sold, and in fact had not expected either of those things to happen. So, looking more quizzical than before, I declined for the second time. For the second time. And then he said, "okay, that'll be $23.80."

By far the worst thing that happened yesterday was my purchase of that exorbitant candle. Their sales technique worked. (I think it should be illegal.) Leaving the mall, I would have ridiculed myself harshly, but since I was steadfastly patient and cheerful, I could only laugh at myself, which was in itself a little humiliating.

The moral of the story, if you were paying attention, was actually very clearly stated at the very beginning, so there is no use repeating it.