Online Shopping Satire

Christmas is hailed as the most wonderful time of the year, but when you go to the mall, you start to seriously wonder if the person who said that was on drugs. Have you ever been to a mall a week before Christmas? Customers and workers alike, furtively rush throughout the store in a panic. Occasionally some stressed out mothers will desperately fight over the last gaming system for their son or the last makeup kit for their daughter. There is always a chorus of, "It's mine!" or "No, I saw it first!" Let me tell you, it is hilarious, but also a little sad. Sometimes I want to ask, "Have you ever heard about online shopping?" Do you want to know what would happen if I said that to a sleep deprived mother of four? Let me give you a hint: I am …show more content…
Even though he swears up and down that he is always nice and kind to the workers, his kindness and niceness are conditional. If he hasn't had much sleep or has had a hard day at work, you can bet your bottom dollar, someone is going to be in tears when all is said and done. And when he is tired and stressed, to put it nicely, run. The usual workers at Macy's were not there that night. Typically, you have a mousy and timid brown haired female college student, who startles at any sudden movement. Then there is a boisterous, red-haired twenty-something man, who my dad likes the best, and last is a tall and very skinny Arab man, who glares if you don't put the display shoes back right. That night there was a very rotund black man, who looked like he needed to get measured for a bra. He had a small, flat head, which was supported by a neck covered in rolls of fat. His ears reminded me of the Disney film Dumbo, but despite all of this, he seemed to be a very nice person. Unfortunate for him, one of his last customers for the night was my …show more content…
What can I help you with tonight?", asked the rotund man named Carl. His voice was nasally, and from my dad's facial expression I could tell he thought the same thing. His face was scrunched up like he had smelled something bad; he turned to me and said, "Does it look like I need any help?" I was not dumb enough to say anything to that, and apparently, neither was Carl. He slowly backed away from us until he got to the cash register, where an angry black woman started to wave a shoe in his face, saying,"These are NOT the shoes I ordered! I want a discount!" So, they aren't the shoes you ordered and you want them anyway? I literally have no words, and I always have a snarky comment stored away. Anyway, my dad looked like he was about to go on a warpath, so I decided to sit down. Meanwhile, my father decided to look at some shoes, and I started to make faces at the little Indian boy who was sitting beside me. For a moment, it seemed as if my dad had calmed down because he was carefully pursuing the shoe collection with a thoughtful, peaceful expression. Until the angry black woman accidently spilled her coffee on his