Over the holidays those responsible for the hatching of ‘Rodney Fickle – Online Athlete’ took a sabbatical. Now with Christmas fading safely off into the distance in the rear view mirror I feel it’s safe for me to take a quick look back at the highlights of My Christmas – 2009.

Shopping was more frantic and frenzied than ever before. Lots of sweaty people, myself included, packing themselves into buildings that didn’t seem to be built to handle the influx. After safely parking the Mirage (AKA Fatmobile, AKA Stealth Shadow Death Machine) I head to the centre proper. Where I have parked dictates that I must take the Elevator, or the stairs, to get to get to my destination. My thought process is faster than lightning. Before I even know I’ve made a decision I find my hand autonomously pressing the call button for the elevator. Thirty seconds into my wait I find myself internally bitching about having to stand up so long. Standing makes me sweat. I don’t like to sweat. Finally the door opens and I survey the situation. There are about 25 people packed into this elevator. All looking back out to me. There is a glint in their eyes. A collective look of worry hidden behind a very thin veil of perceived cool. They all seem to be thinking the same thing.

“I don’t think this lift is rated to carry this many people, let alone one more sweaty fat guy.” Having been a firm believer of never making the incorrect decision I decided to ride the elevator regardless of the indignity that would surely follow. The indignity that would absolutely follow if the lift stopped between floors and we all had to wait hours upon hours, all the while trying work out who’d be the most suitable person to eat. Naturally I’d be high on the list – more of him to eat, yet he would eat more than us. It’s a simple equation. Using my ‘standing sweat’ I slip my way in between the bodies filling the elevators. I almost immediately regret the decision because of two things;

1. Instead of playing standard elevator muzak they are playing ‘Sexy Motherfucker’ by Prince

and

2. Someone smells of yoghurt. I can’t narrow down who.

Arriving at my destination I quickly dash across the third floor to the department store that I plan on buying gifts from. I do my best not look anyone in the eye. Every time I do that something bad happens. One time I looked a woman in the eye, smiled politely as I walked past she stopped me and said in an unnaturally low register “This is what we call the mulberry bush” then she cackled and went on her way.

Inside the store I start the hunt for the perfect gift. Instead I find that things have changed dramatically since last Christmas. Toys have gotten more…. Freaky. Here is a couple of what I considered to be highlights.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 16th, 2010 at 10:07 am and is filed under Off Topic. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.