Boxing Day in New Zealand (and most developed places) marks a day of ridiculous shopping, long check out queus, discounted rubbish, maxed out credit cards, excited women and exhausted partners.
I have a great facination with people.
I could even say that I "enjoy" watching humans function in public places and shopping malls.
Today is like a Box Office Hit for 'people' enthusiasts like I.
I went to Ezibuy to buy pants that can fit my swelling belly, only to be pushed and shoved to the side by middle aged women with bargain badges in their wringled eyes.
I find myself saying "oh, sorry!" for her bumping into me.
What i really meant to say is "Oh sorry you are so tragic looking that you are convinced that buying that pink top might improve your self-image".
I moved towards the dressing rooms but find queus and queus of anxious women wanting to try dresses two times smaller.
So i give up and walk to the furthest corner to put on pants under my skirt.
Perfect.
I remove these pants and proceed to the check out queu, oblivious to the women looking at me disusted with my public changing room.
High on our list is baby shopping.
But G-man shruggs "Why don't we wait to find out first if its a girl or a boy?
"But we already know the sex of the baby from the 21 week scan."
It seems like Gman is willing for the growing baby to change its reproductive organs in the next few months.
I hold his hand and assure him we can still buy neutral coloured items,. He shakes his head and walks to the strollers section.
Our relations begin to stray as shops turn into malls into massive department sections and even more queus.
Soon, we no longer hold hands, nor keep eye contact, only striding forward with angry thoughts.
Soon, even people watching takes its toll and i just want to sit down and put my feet up in the middle of the shopping mall.
I look around and realise i am not alone in my misery.
Even men of strenght and bloated egos are reduced to weary-shoppingbag-carriers, yawning and staring into nothingness, lamenting the damage on their credit cards and wishing for the Festive Season to be over already "for farks sake".
Gman dropped me off so i can relax as he returns to Bunnings warehouse to buy some male shet to fiddle with in the garage to remind himself he's got balls, and i hav'nt.
Thank God i'm a warm blooded bitch
