Holiday Shopping, or Zombie Watch

Last week Larry Doyle came and read as part of the M.F.A. reading series. One of his pieces was about zombies in the mall. I thought this was funny.

And only funny.

On Monday, I encountered the truth. This was not a piece of fiction. This is, in fact, how local malls keep their employee numbers up. Don't believe me? You will.

See, I'm the girl that loves the holidays. I can't wait until the Christmas music is up, the decorations are in every store, and no matter what time of what day you head in every store is busy, busy, busy. In fact, in previous years I have purposely saved my shopping until the week of and, brace yourselves, I like that last Christmas Eve rush to get what you need.

Last year was the first year I began to see signs of zombification, however, and did not thus enjoy my usual last minute shopping with as much intensity. This year, not even Thanksgiving, Black Friday has yet to arrive, and all ready I have had an Encounter.

So, I dragged the boy--Lane--out on Monday morning for a date. We were armed with gift cards to Olive Garden (my mom is concerned about my ability to cook for us) and, yes, a plan to see that cinematic classic (yes, I am being ironic) New Moon (yeah, okay, I like the Twilight Saga, pretend we saw something else if you must).

So, we head into the mall while waiting for eleven o'clock to roll around. At one of the holiday set ups where one can purchase board games, puzzles, and calendars we were dripped on, repeatedly. When the girl working the mini-store came around Lane smiled and stopped her with a gesture toward the water streaming from the ceiling and splashing into a puddle that was getting big enough to swim in.

"Hello," he said, "I don't know if you realize this, but there's a really terrible leak. You might want to call someone to do something about--"

She stopped just inches from the accidental water feature. "Hello." She finally looked up from the Rubick's Cube in her hand, blinking blankly behind her oversize glasses. "How are you today?" Each word was a struggle, drawn slowly out of her gaping mouth--an expression that someone less astute might have misconstrued for a vague smile. "Can I help you with anything?"

Lane, sensing the danger, simply shook his head and pulled me away. Because, of course, though she could mimic actual human interaction, he knew that in moments that gaping mouth would open yet wider and she'd lunge forward moaning, "Brains!"

This must be some sort of human rights cause. I know recent movies have jokingly referred to keeping zombies as servants--or perhaps subversively revealed the truth about what is all ready happening. But, I have to say, I miss the days when I felt safe walking into a store, where I wouldn't immediately be attacked by, "Can I help yous?" that then followed me into the dressing room, dragging clothes off racks as if they were really trying to help dress me and not munch on my flesh.

Or, like my recent encounter, the times when I wouldn't be stared at from empty eyes and no matter what my query only nodded at, as if her head had all ready been partially severed by another person in the know but, sadly, not successful in his or her own escape attempt.

Just consider this your friendly holiday shopping warning. It is a dangerous world out there and behind the vacant eyes of a mall worker could lurk something infinitely more dangerous: the vacant eyes of a brain starved zombie.

Happy Holidays!

Three things I found this week: The Lovely Bones was an amazing, heart breaking read. They have created a Star Trek phaser. And, I'm cooking Thanksgiving dinner. (Yeah, what?)

Three things I still need to find: How to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Ipecac. Just in case. And oven mitts that extend past the elbow.