I lost my mind this weekend and tried to “run to the mall” the Friday after Thanksgiving.

What was I thinking? Had I gone totally mad? Well, no, actually. I needed a French dictionary. I hadn’t gone mad. I needed the dictionary. You know—one of six major assignments due this week….

Well, anyway, I truly didn’t think it would be that horrendous. I thought people would be in a holiday mood—you know—festive. But no. It was quite the opposite.

People were being cut-throat drivers in the parking lot. Inconsiderate, self-centered Scrooges—all of them. Except me, of course. In fact, one person backed up around my car to slip into a spot that I had been waiting for. Slime. And why, I ask myself? What’s the big rush? Christmas is still almost a month away? I don’t believe the stores are going to run out of merchandise by then. But no. People had to get to the mall NOW. Before it disappeared or something—don’t ask me. I just wanted a stupid dictionary.

So, after spending thirty minutes in a desperate search for a parking space, I finally found one. Ask me where.

Where, Kelli?

Okay, I’ll tell you. I wedged my car in between a small, blue foreign sedan and AN IDIOT WHO PARKED ACROSS TWO SPACES. Good thing I have a tiny car. But that is not the point. Where is the need to park across two spaces? I certainly can’t think of a good one. So, I let this inconsiderate driver know my feelings by leaving a really sweet note on his windshield. And if I had had a lipstick with me, I would have used that as my writing utensil and his windshield as my paper. But I used regular pen and paper. This wasn’t nearly as fun, but I still let this person know what a wonderful driver I thought he was (yes, it could have been a woman, but for lack of a non-gender pronoun, I’ll use “he”). I hope this got the point across.

Okay. So I finally found a parking space. I trekked my way into the mall to combat the crowds. What a joke. I can see now why people become Scrooges. It’s because we shop at malls with lots of other Scrooges—people who push their ways to the front of lines, complaining about other customers and the poor souls who work the registers (of which I am one). People who feel that they have certainly been waiting in line the longest of anyone else. People who growl at the sales people, who complain and sigh and snarl and so on and so on. People who make this season a real drag. People who forget that giving gifts to others is fun, and end up feeling that it’s something they have to do—a big chore … almost as bad as taking out the garbage.

And you know, those of us who work retail over the holidays—as soon as you leave, we whisper about you. How we wish something horrible would happen to you. Santa isn’t the only one who watches you.

Well, loosen up all you Scrooges out there. If not for yourself, do it for the people who have to be around you. For the people who have to stand next to you in a mile-long line. For the person who rings up the sale. For the people who need to park in the same lot as you. Be nice. The season is almost over. You can be mean later.