Monday, February 21, 2011

If I'm this miserable, it must be a holiday weekend...

Don't get me wrong. The big holidays? Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Independence Day? Love 'em. I do. It's these little ones, where the world still goes on full tilt with the holiday incorporated that make me want to kick people.

I'm pretty sure that this is a learned behavior. Specifically learned from my time spent on the Walt Disney World College Program. You see, on the big holidays--and I was there for both Easter and the Fourth--it's SO crazy that it's almost endearing. It was the little holidays--Memorial Day, President's Day, MLK--that make people act like they were raised by wolves. The problem with President's Day, especially, is that there really isn't anything festivity-like to attach to it. I guess when you're in elementary school you make an Abe Lincoln hat out of cardboard and talk about George Washington and the cherry tree. But after you're grown up? It's just a day where your kids don't have school and you don't have to work.

Which brings me to my point...since there's not any kind of local history program presentation like on MLK Day and it's too cold for a picnic, everyone goes shopping. Which is fine. I LIKE shopping. However, since the ladies in question also brought their husbands and offspring? SO NOT COOL. I'm guessing that most husbands don't really want to be in the grocery section of the local Target. Or the ladies' clothes section. Or the health and beauty section. The reason I guess this is because they are wandering aimlessly. They are standing smack in the middle of the aisle. They are staring at products they can't begin to understand. And you? What are you doing? You are discussing AT LENGTH with them, while they block all the aisles, no less, the merits of generic ibuprofen versus Advil. Why? Just...WHY??!?! (I'm not even gonna start on the obscene number of men who were shuffling around Anthropologie. If they don't want to be at Target, then I can assure you they don't want to be in a fancy ladies' clothing store.)

And then there's the kids. Lord love 'em, they had apparently all lost their mind. Apparently they were all very saddened to learn that George REALLY never chopped down that cherry tree, because more crying, screaming, tantrum throwing, I have never seen. And you will note that I already said I WORKED AT THE MAGIC KINGDOM. And I'm going to need absolution for this one: I see some little monster running around the store at Mach 12 and she's carrying an entire cup of quarters (Just come from the slots at Atlantic City?) And she falls over her untied shoelaces and quarters go EVERYWHERE. And I had to turn my cart down another aisle and laugh. So I'm going to hell.

So, here's to holiday weekends. Most especially the part where they're over.

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