Christmas BUSTLE!

Beep! Beep! Gridlock. Not a car was moving. A willowy boy holding a large black bag was standing about 10 feet from the growing line of vehicles. He snickered as two angry drivers went at it.

"Move yuh whats-it-not cyar!" yelled one driver.

"Mi seh fi go round! Yuh ears nah work?" the other replied.

"Leggo di road!" the driver of another car shouted.

Now, the ensuing madness was not taking place on some congested highway in the city. Instead, this scene was one of many like it in the crowded parking lots of shopping malls across St Andrew as nightfall approached on Christmas Eve.

One burly driver of a white minivan decided he had had about all he was going to take of driving around, looking for a parking space, so he decided to create his own. The trouble is, the spot he chose was reserved for delivery trucks. Two exhausted-looking security guards ran over to him as he shut the minivan's engine off.

"Driver, yuh cannot park deh so!" one of the guards said.

The driver glared at them both. He was about 60 years old and by the expression on his face was not having a particularly good day.

"Don't tell me nonsense!" he shouted. The guards looked at each other, then back at the driver who, by now, was fuming.

"Driver, if yuh park deh so, yuh ah block di people dem who want to pass," the second guard said. The driver of the minivan pounded his fist into his palm.

"Yuh telling me rubbish! I am here to conduct important business and yuh telling me I cannot park here? Yuh is a idiot!" he yelled. "I spending my money, yuh cannot tell me I cannot park where I want to park!"

The guards looked at each other again and one of them sighed heavily.

Exploding rockets

I was standing about 20 feet away and was eager to see what was going to happen next, when I felt a not-so-subtle tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a strapping woman wearing tights and slippers. She was holding boxes full of fire crackers and some small, exploding rockets.

"Clappas?" she said. I told her I wasn't interested. "Buy di likkle clappas, man. Yuh can go give yuh pickney dem," she insisted.

I was about to respond when the woman's eyes suddenly widened. Someone let out a whistle and without saying another word, the woman took off like one of the very rockets she was peddling. She had to have been more than 300 pounds, but moved with surprising speed. It seemed someone had spotted a policeman who had been trying to get a hold of the sellers since early that morning. They took off in one swift swoop, many of them laughing as they ran. It was easy for them to disappear too, since the crowd of shoppers was getting larger by the minute and every available spot on the sidewalks was commandeered by a vendor.

Two teenage girls walked by me just then, one of them wearing a giant hat with plastic reindeer antlers attached. She seemed pleased with herself and people kept pointing her out and smiling.

"Ah wah teck she?" a woman shouted. "Ah pappy show!"

The decorative Christmas lights in the trees of the plaza came on as evening turned into night. The shoppers' attention turned to the colourful display and the operators of one of the stores starting playing carols on a large speaker set up outside.

An elderly woman hobbled by, complaining all the way.

"I don't know why Sheila dem think I want to be in the middle of all of dis. Dem nuh see dat me is a old woman? My Christmas is about peace and quiet. Give me country life any day fi Christmas. Dat is my Christmas," she said.

Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.