A Woeful Attempt At Christmas Shopping

Started my Christmas shopping the other day, it was for everything I hadn’t ordered online so ventured into town to pick up those bits. My first stop was HMV which seems such a dense hive of activity at first glance. You absolutely can’t move a muscle without a bit of jostling. I could see the Blue Planet DVD I wanted to get, it was only about fifteen feet away but there was so little room for manoeuvring. It wasn’t for the amount of people in there but for the crazy amount of aisles they have. Eventually I got there but as soon as I picked it up I realised I’ve got to go all the way back and the queue was fast growing. What a total pain in the arse I thought. It’s times like this when I’m put in a position where I may have to be patient that my mind starts sparking with ideas. Unfortunately these ideas are only on how to reduce my waiting time and nothing more. You see I abhor waiting and so does my brain. In fact whenever I arrange to meet someone for something I’m always late. I know its tardy behaviour but I just can’t stand waiting so I know if I’m late I won’t have to wait for the other person. Anyway, in this instance it dawned on me I could go upstairs where they sell posters, games and CD singles hardly anyone ever goes up there anymore. So I weaved my way through the rest of the potential punters and sure enough it was dead apart from a goth guy requesting an obscure death metal album to a confused and slightly scared sales girl. I paid for my goods and thought that pretty much the rest of shops round town are going to be like this so bailed on my trip. Not without passing this shop called Zavvi, where Virgin used to be. What’s all that about then?

Going to see The Darjeeling Limited on Wednesday so if it’s any good I might write about it.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Yeah maybe, but I know what I’m doing with those, I know how to hit someone with it. I can wave in front of them, smack them across the knees and watch them buckle. Then wait, wait for their co-operation and if they still refused I’d smack them across the jaw. But with a weapon like this, what can I do but either wave it in their faces or start firing at them as soon as they refuse to comply.”

“Don’t start chatting about not being able to control a weapon. It’s because you’re scared of using something new. I think you should take the plunge for once, be Gregor’s right hand man. He came to you first to show you his acquisitions. Be a fucking man.”

Charles looked at the pistol. He hated the way it looked, the way it felt all cold and hard. It was almost phallic but yet he couldn’t help but feel incapable if he didn’t accept it. Gregor would laugh at him before spitting on him at the disgust of his refusal. He wanted to be part of this new era of theft. It was Marla though he really didn’t want to let down, she thought she married a rampaging hooligan but how can that be true if he wouldn’t even learn to use and carry a gun. The fifteen year old boys that hang round the local shop have air rifles shoved down their pants. It isn’t that much different. He stared at the gun once more then looked back up to Marla who had her eyes fixed on him, waiting for his answer.

“You’re right carrying a gun will make me all powerful, no one will mess with me if I shove this underneath their noses.”

Marla jumped him and kissed him while wrapping her legs tightly round his waist.

They pulled up outside their house. Marla got out and slammed the door and stomped towards the house. Charles then got out of the car he walked in just as Marla slammed their bedroom door upstairs. He was fed up. He couldn’t cope with her tantrums right now and walked over to kitchen retrieved a glass from the cupboard walked to the kitchen and dropped a few ice cubes before pouring some whisky. He slumped himself down on the chair making sure he flopped so low that his chin and chest met while almost all of his legs hung off the end. The night had been weird. Peter had got him aggravated but he managed to come out on top with in their verbal encounter. But soon he’d have to see Gregor about the latest job. Why did he feel in such bondage with this repulsive human? He couldn’t stand him now, his grey stubbly face, his dry skinned face and his French crop hair style made him want to punch him square on the face. He was a weasel. And yet he’ll always do business with him, always invite him in when he came banging on the door. Never mention not to spit on the door step just before knocking. Maybe for once he should just not get involved with him, slowly distance himself from him. He could hear Marla talking on the phone upstairs probably to Semmi. He decided he liked Semmi, she was a lot more honest with her feelings than her sister and certainly wasn’t as demanding as Marla. Marla wants it all and wants to give no one anything.

His phone vibrates and he reaches into his pocket to get it out. He sips on his whisky as he looks at the message from Gregor. It reads, “Two hours, mine.” Charles throws his phone to the floor and swirls his drink around staring at the whisky slushing around the glass. He’s not going to go this time. He told himself this earlier. Who is he going to betray his strength of mind or Gregor?

After an hour Charles gets up picks up his car keys and heads out to the car.