A Word: Attitude
The pouring rain began just as my left blinker stopped clicking and I slid to a stop at the entrance of the mall parking lot. The pounding water blurred what I knew lay before me: No parking spaces and a horde of shopping inhumanity. I didn’t need to flick on my windshield wipers to see the colored shapes and headlight halos from the holiday shoppers. It would only add clarity to what I already knew: I should not have procrastinated to do my Christmas shopping.
In one swift, angry motion, I cranked the dial and the wipers began their monotonous reminder in swishing, repetitive tones.
You…Should…
Not…Wait…
To…Shop…
You…Should…
Not…Wait…
To…Shop…
I whipped the car towards the few remaining parking spots at the back of the lot, resigned to my situation and resentful that my wipers sounded too much like my nagging mother. The dinner bell appeal of a 19×9 oasis in a sea of shopping fanatics did not go unnoticed by the car behind me or the car speeding up the next aisle, flinging sheets of water on helpless families scurrying inside. I mashed the accelerator, ignored sensible driving rules, and made a beeline for what was quickly becoming my one and only goal: Find a spot.
I careened into a parking space amidst blaring horns and wild, obscene gestures from new enemies. I didn’t care.
A deep breath later and a couple of glances over my shoulder brought a slew of new problems. Where’s my umbrella? Why did I quickly walk out of the house without my raincoat? How far is it to the mall, my safe haven against the frigid, wet rain?
The rain drummed a new song. A screaming song.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
I unbuckled my seat belt and fell forward, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. Seconds seemed like minutes as frustration and anger sped through my body. My mother’s nagging voice. The holiday shopping insanity. The rain.
It was oddly prophetic to hear the rain lessen at the same time that I asked myself, “When did Christmas and shopping become such an unpleasant experience?” I remembered years past when going to the mall meant an afternoon with my busy father, a time when we would smile picking out the perfect gift for my mother and top the day off with a movie and some popcorn. I recalled the warm feeling of unbridled joy when I discovered that I needed to buy a baby gift for my unborn nephew. “Why should this year be any different?” I thought.
I opened my car door and let the rain drizzle on me as I casually felt for my keys. The wet drops were cleansing. The previous five minutes washed down my cheeks, over my jeans, and into the rain gutter. I slipped the key into the lock, turned, and made my way across the parking lot.
I sidestepped a few puddles and noticed, inside the reflective pools of water, quite a few open parking spaces that were much closer to the mall’s doors.
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I was inspired to write this post after reading Delivering Newspapers and Smiling in the Rain.
Photo: http://farm1.static.flickr.com/228/453625659_a10ff5588c.jpg?v=0
