Christmas Spree

“Whirr…whirr…whirr” The alarm startled me as I walked out of the department store. I was prepared for the anti-theft alarm to sound, but each store has a distinct sound, so it still surprises me every time.

“Ma'am, please stop and let us search your bags.” One of the sales associates flags me down before I make it out into the mall proper.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I did not think that alarm was for me; I don’t have a bag from this store. Just the bags I carry everywhere.” Shaking my bags with a laugh, I turned back to the nice young lady who had directed me off to the side to ensure that I was not a thief. It was Black Friday, so I am sure she had her hands full trying to prevent theft. She was really wasting her time with me, though.

“Yes, mam, just right over here if you don’t mind. I will be fast. I just need to check your bags quickly.” Her name tag said Courtney, and she was trying to be as patient with me as possible.

“Can I please look in your bags?”

With a smile, I handed her the two large canvas bags that I carry everywhere. She took them with a smile that twisted into a grimace as she began digging through them.

“I’m just going to set things here on the counter, so that I can see to the bottom of the bag. Will that be okay with you, ma’am?”

Smiling at her, I replied. “Oh, no problem, sweetheart. I know you are just doing your job. You never know what kind of people you will find these days. Thieves are everywhere. Can’t be too careful.”

On the counter we were standing, I watched with a bland smile on my face as she removed items from my bag. As she dug through my bag, I watched her face change from patient to confused to mildly disgusted. She did not make it to the bottom of the bag before she just gave up. Next to her, on the counter, was a random assortment of carefully chosen items designed to elicit this exact response. Old kleenex, a can of cat food, candy that may be a few days to a few years old, feminine hygiene products, a pair of depends, a plastic rain cap to protect my hair, a coin purse, a leather cigarette pouch, a small folded blanket,and a bag of random ashes marked, Fluffy. I think it was the ashes that finally got to her.

“Are you sure you are done with me, Honey? I have another bag for you if you need it.” This is what I say as I attempt to push my other bag toward her. I don’t want you to face any consequences for failing to inspect everyone’s belongings. You never know who could try to steal from the store.”

“I appreciate that, ma’am, but I am sure you are fine. Have a nice day.” As she walks away from me, I see her pull out a bottle of hand sanitizer and scrub her hands. I quickly put everything back into my bag and made my way out of the store and headed to my next target.

As I walk down the mall, I pull my Christmas shopping list out of my cardigan pocket. AirPods- Check, Sephora beauty set- Check, Xbox game- Check. That last store allowed me to take more than I thought it would. But the items were pretty small. I need to work on the clothing items that are on the list, so I head into a clothing store next.

As I enter Hot Topic, I get a few strange looks; apparently, a sixty-year-old lady wearing a muumuu, cardigan, and carrying two large canvas bags is not their target demographic. I carry two large canvas bags. Each is full of a random assortment of items carefully curated to cause discomfort and distraction. Besides the bag that the last shop assistant went through, my other bag carries; a pair of pantyhose, a silver snuffbox with my old dentures, a picture of my deceased grandmother looking extremely angry, a voodoo doll, a rosary, a silver ghost bottle, a dream catcher, another pair of depends, a crusty handkerchief, a vanilla scented candle and a fuzzy lemon yellow shawl. I have stories prepared to go with each item if anyone asks. But they rarely do. The people who work at the security desk in the shop are usually under twenty-five and don’t ask many questions of the nice old lady with the weird bag of treasures. They usually just look at me and wave me through. If they search the bags, though, I need to really turn on the acting skills and the “nice southern old lady schtick.”

After wandering the store and stuffing a few band t-shirts and earrings in my bag, I made my way to the door, preparing to be stopped again by the security alarms.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP!” Blasts the alarm. I jump and spill the contents of one of my bags all over the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“Oh, my heavens! That thing, but it gave me a heart attack!” I am just stooping to gather my things when the cashier makes his way over to help me. I have lucked out this time, for sure. He appears to be about the same age as my grandson, eighteen or nineteen years old, with shaggy hair, a nose ring, and gauges in his ears. He has a friendly smile that reaches his eyes.

“Let me help you with that, mam. I am not sure what would have set off the alarms. But do you mind if I look in your bags?”

“Oh, sure, sweetheart. I don’t mind at all. I am sure it must be something I am carrying. Here, let me help you. These are the things that fell out when the alarm went off. I bet it was one of these things.”

As he tries to grab the bag, I instead start emptying it into his hands. Diapers, Kleenex, bags of ashes, all pile into his outstretched arms before he can tell me he doesn’t need my help. His smile looks a little thinner than his arms fill with all the items I try to hand him.

“Don’t worry about Fluffy; he was such a good boy. He never got angry if he had his favorite blanket, which I also have right here.” I say as I hand him the rolled-up fleece next.

“Ma’am. Please, you can stop now. I think you are good. Please let me just put these things back in your bag.” He tries to shove my treasures back at me.

“Well, if you are sure. I don’t want you to get into trouble for not checking everyone. You never know who might try to steal from you.” I say sweetly. I gather all of my things, put them back into my bag, and head back out into the mall.

Today has been a productive day of shopping.