Shopping in December – what a Christmas-y time it is.

Bloke winds his car window down, “Hope the earth falls through on ya, ya peasant.”

I’d been waiting for that car park longer than he had, it’s that he’d only spotted me late in the piece, causing his impatience to become threatening.

Less than thirty steps inside the shopping centre, a toddler comes running out of an adjacent store straight into my kneecap, and goes crashing like a tenpin onto the floor. I crouch down to help the little man when his mother comes hurrying out of the store chastising me: “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

I was watching where I was going. Perhaps you could have been watching your child more closely?

Of course, I thought that, I didn’t say it.

Fifty metres further on and a bloke fumbles his large cup of juice and drops the whole thing in the middle of the walkway. He looks at it… and then just keeps walking, without any thought to alerting shopping centre staff of the hazard he’s just left.

Further on and there's four teens deliberately loitering in front of the escalators with an empty supermarket trolley, because they think blocking the masses from getting around is funny.

As I pass one of the males, he inhales from a vape inside his hooded jumper and blows smoke in my face. I’m tempted to stand up for myself, but God knows what else is hidden in that hoodie, or how many times the Allan Government’s soft hand has let him out on bail.

In a department store, I’m in the same aisle as a woman and her teenage daughter. The teenage daughter goes from complaining, to a full-on hissy fit. She wants a video message from the ‘Hawk Tuah’ girl for Christmas. She starts off by saying, “Just ‘cos I like her, doesn’t mean I’m gonna do OnlyFans,’ but after being told ‘no’ by her mum, screams, “Screw you then, I am gonna do OnlyFans.”

In another aisle are a mid-40s truck driver–looking bloke with one hand on a newborn–style pram, and his wife. He groans, "Can they play anything else other than this Mariah Carey shit?"

It's true, the department store feels like it's been playing 'All I want for Christmas,' for the past 15 minutes.

His wife scolds him for his use of language, "Don't speak like that around the baby," to which he returns fire, "As if she's at any chance to repeat what I said... she's three weeks old!"

As I head back to the car, having made my purchases, I spot an elderly man sitting on one of those mechanical horses that are normally reserved for kids. I actually feel for him, as it appears he's done so because other shoppers sitting on a nearby bench have refused to offer up their seat.

It's soon evident however that that's not the case – he actually just wants to ride it. He puts a coin in the machine, grips on to the handles, and grins.

Just inside the exit, no less than 10 people line up at the ticket machine to pay for their parking. The truck driver-looking bloke, still holding on to the pram, and his wife, stand at the very back.

He murmurs in frustration, "this is f***ed."

"Are you serious?!" His wife says, disgusted at the language he continues to use in front of their baby.

"What?!" he says, playing dumb.

Shopping in December – what a very, merry Christmas time it is.