Sunday, April 25, 2010

My Hell

Every so often, after a tongue lashing by some fanatical Christian group, I ponder what hell must be like. After all that’s where they say people like me are going. Yesterday I needed to do some last minute shopping for a few items I considered necessary for my trip to Europe for which I am leaving tonight. It was during this unassuming outing that I finally discovered what my hell will look like.
Being somewhat anal retentive I like making lists and when going on a trip you absolutely need a check list. When I cross referenced what I had on my list one item was missing. I am also not shy to admit it was an item of make-up. Yes, I sometimes do wear a little miracle powders and creams; after all I was not born an oil painting. Under my eyes I have a slight pigmentation that I find unsightly and frequently will cover up with concealer and it was my concealer that was finished. Pure vanity then drove me and hubby out of the house in cold wet weather to do some shopping.
With the weather being miserable and it being a Saturday I was convinced that the shopping centers would be quiet. The first one we went to was slightly busy but not crowded. However, I was made to stand in queue to pay for an unscheduled purchase. After this little detour I made it to the makeup counter and asked for the concealer I wanted. The sales lady (who needs a lesson in applying her own makeup) looked at me as if surprised. She paused for a moment and then responded in a sarcastic tone that they didn’t carry Yves Saint Laurent products and I had to go to their larger franchise in a larger shopping center. Being a bit taken aback by the woman’s attitude and surprise that a man would ask for makeup and be specific about what he wanted, I decided to let it go so I turned around and left.
Arriving at the second shopping centre the first warning sign was that we couldn’t find any parking. It took me 20 minutes to eventually find an open parking bay. It was in a section of the center I have never been and I also never knew they had a Go Kart track there – the noise was mind numbing. The walk to one of the entrances was more a hike than walk. As we entered the centre it looked like the whole town decided to go shopping and I was slightly overwhelmed. I don’t like crowds and I don’t like shopping centers - combine the two and you have the perfect torture. By now I had a headache and my mood was slowly deteriorating. Kids were screaming and their screams where cutting like knives through my ears. People were rude and navigating my way through crowds of people was frequently hindered with obstacles of trolleys, shopping bags and window shoppers that were stationary and refusing to give way.
After some minor altercations and me cursing a few people in my mind, we eventually made it to the shop. This too was packed to capacity and would be any fire marshal’s nightmare. As we got there hubby said he wanted to go have a look at some belts while I buy my makeup. Horrified at being left amongst this sea of people, memories of me getting separated from my parents in shopping centers when I was small came flooding back. Needless to say, hubby didn’t leave my side. I bought the concealer and I hesitantly accompanied him to the belt section.
By now my headache turned into a migraine. We had got what we came for and it was time to escape this noisy crowed pits of hell. Going back to car proved more treacherous. Again we had to fight the crowds but this time we were going against the stream. Finally making it to the car I had a sigh of relieve, but the torture was not yet over! We still had to get out of the parking area and as luck would have it probably a hundred other cars decided to leave at the same time. Now we were stuck in a traffic jam in the parking lot and it was a race against time. You only get 20 minutes to leave after you paid for your ticket and no cars was moving. My patience was being tested, my head was throbbing and I started to realize what road rage felt like. Going down 5 levels in the covered parking was like watching snails race, we were moving but I didn’t feel like it. With 3 minutes to spare we made it out and I was free!
My hell would be being trapped in a busy shopping centre. I would be forced to walk around aimlessly, not being allowed to sit down. There would be no quiet spot to hide from the crowds. The sound of children screaming and crying would only be replaced by elevator music. Strange people will continuously invade my personal space, bump into me and refuse to get out of my way. This will be my hell and it will be utter torture. Now I have to finish packing and make my way to another very crowed place – THE AIRPORT!

Till next time.

Margaret Cho - Gay males/Straight males

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