I didn't get around to it last night, so here it is, today (only part one; I've decided I can't finish it all that quickly), and rather late even for Monday. If I don't finish this soon, it'll be The Sunday Post on Tuesday, and that's just not right! However, as this is still Holiday week in my mind, I don't care that much about those small details, like the proper day of the week for a blog post (I do think, however, that I will start doing this post reliably every Sunday, and by that I mean Sunday morning, just as regular as that dinosaur, the Sunday Paper. Have I ever told my Sunday paper stories here? I didn't think so. I'll make notes for future posts on those.
So, Christmas Day I realized I needed more eggnog (I was drinking it straight, and lots of it, as I often do during the holidays; hey, I know some of you may think I've got an eggnog problem, but I can stop anytime I want) and some of those things you light on both ends with a match and put in the fireplace (though hopefully most of you put them inside the fireplace before you light them) so I announced I was going to take the car and go find someplace open, and thought I'd head for the supermarket, figuring they might be open for at least a few hours for (very) last minute shoppers. Well, they weren't. The parking lot of every grocery store I passed was empty (I'd say completely empty to emphasize the post-apocalyptic look of all that barren asphalt, but that would be redundant).
I knew Walmart wasn't open either, but right on the corner of the Walmart parking lot sits a Walgreen's drugstore. They were open, of course, the only day of the year when someone in their right mind would buy there instead of Walmart. The tiny parking lot in front of the building was nearly full, but I got a spot near the entrance (well, technically all the spots are near the entrance) and went in to look for firelogs and eggnog (not exactly pork chops and apple sauce, but this was Christmas). The only firelogs were right by the door, and they were only selling buy the box. You had to purchase six at once. I only wanted one, but what the hell, there was no place else to go. I lifted one and looked for a shopping cart. I have to say, those drugstore carts are hilarious; tiny and toy like, they seem to be telling the customer not to do any serious shopping while patronizing this establishment. My carton of firelogs barely fit inside the lilliputian basket. Once that was done, I went to look for eggnog. There wasn't any choice in that case any more than with the firelogs. The only kind available in the refrigerated case was the ubiquitous Shamrock Farms brand. Damn that stuff is expensive! I bought one anyway, because, ya know, what choice did I have, and hey, I can stop any time I want to!
The one thing that made the experience of shopping on Christmas day at Walgreen's unpleasant was this homeless old guy with a beard who was wandering the store with his blanket draped over his shoulder. He smelled so bad that he left an odor that literally lingered for minutes after he passed by. Up and down the aisles he went, aimlessly circling the store. He hit me again with his powerful stink weapon at the checkout, as he once again went by and waved at the cashier. Hell, I guess if I was homeless, and that was the only place open, I'd do the same. Only I would have found a little out of the way corner and wrapped myself in my blanket while enjoying a pilfered bottle of eggnog. They might call the police, but then, I'd have a warm place to stay for Christmas, either way.
I did get my firelogs and eggnog home safely, and enjoyed both while watching George C. Scott in A Christmas Carol. While watching it, I didn't think about that homeless old man once. A good television show can sure take your mind off the troubles out in the world.