The Empty Big Box Store

I drove to a big box store to finish my Christmas shopping on Monday. The parking lot was just about deserted. When I went inside there were no frantic crowds or holiday hustle. It was as quiet as a funeral parlor. The muzak was not playing Christmas songs -- it wasn't even on. I asked a clerk, who was playing solitaire on the jewelry counter, where was everybody.

"Don't know" she sighed. "It's been this way since we opened the doors this morning at six. Nobody's coming in; nobody's shopping. You're the first person who's not on staff I've talked to all day. Do you wanna buy some jewelry?"

"No thanks" I told her. "I was looking for fishing gear, actually."

"Aisle eight, right next to the camping equipment" she said.

I wandered over to Aisle 8. I had to keep rubbing my eyes; it looked like cobwebs were forming on all the merchandise. But that couldn't be right. Could it?

A tumbleweed blew past me as I priced stink bait. I got so unnerved that I quietly walked out of the big box store without buying a single thing. That's never happened to me before; I always buy something.

In the parking lot a security guy was writing me a ticket. He stuck it under my windshield as I walked up to my car. He had what looked like a plastic GI Joe walkie-talkie on his shoulder; it was playing Beach Boys songs.

"What's that?" I asked him.

"Ticket" he said shortly. "You can't park here during peak shopping hours. The sign says so, right there." He pointed at a small wet piece of cardboard with crude lettering that said: "NO PARKING HERE WHEN BUSY."

"But that's ridiculous" I told him. "There's no cars in the lot and the store is practically abandoned."

"Yeah" he said. "This year people are staying home and roasting ears of corn in their fireplaces instead of going insane buying presents. I haven't bought a single thing for anyone, and neither has anyone else in my family. This is what the holidays are now."

"So, are you gonna throw away my ticket or what?" I asked him.

"Okay. Sure." He took back the ticket and tore it up.

"Thanks" I said.

"Not a problem" he replied. "But next time I may have to shoot you instead." He grinned at me, but I wasn't at all certain that he was joking with me. I felt cold and very disoriented.

I drove back home and looked at all the presents under the tree. That security guy was right. I took all the packages out to the dumpster next door, where they were renovating their garage, and tossed them all in. Then I felt better and made myself some Kraft macaroni and cheese. It tasted so good I took some over to the homeless shelter across the street to give to anyone who wanted it. 

But they were closed. There was a wet cardboard sign on the darkened door that said "CLOSED DUE TO LACK OF HOMELESS PEOPLE THIS TIME OF YEAR. COME BACK IN THE SUMMER."

"Stupid jerks" I muttered to myself as I went back home. It started to snow, so I built a roaring fire in the fireplace and got out a flashlight and a box of Saltine crackers to create a new religion.