A stunned, bewildered idiot will stand at the intersection of two or more major traffic aisles so as to cause the most inconvenience to passers-by who do know where they are going.
Such idiot will be carrying at least one bag capable of comfortably holding a ’57 Buick, and will make sudden, random turns so as to fling the bag into the shins (or worse) of passers-by.
When such idiot is intercepted by family and/or friends and removed from the location, they will be replaced by a freshly bewildered idiot within 2.5 minutes, maximum.
No matter how many signs (or how big they are) the store puts up clearly announcing “NO RETURNS OR EXCHANGES DEC 26 or 27” there will be no less than 5 morons crowded into every cashier’s line who figure this rule couldn’t possibly apply to them. And they’ll be pretty huffy about it, too.
Nitwits who can clearly afford baby sitters (either that, or they’re shoplifting the 5 high-end DVD players under their arm) will have the curious impression that After Christmas shopping is exactly the sort of bonding event their squalling 3-week-old offspring wants most to do in this life.
The parking lot of any store over 300 square meters will contain no less than 17 Sport Utility Vehicles with dogs pretending to be ready to drive off at a moment’s notice. When the supervising human does return, odds are 50:50 that the dog will occupy said human’s lap as driving commences. Especially if the dog is the size of a Saturn Launch Vehicle.
No idiot driving a SUV has any grasp of the physical size of the vehicle, with the result being that parking them involves maneuvers hitherto unaccomplished by the entire Kirov Ballet.
Imbeciles paying for purchases of Items Necessary to Life (consumer electronics, compact disks, angora sweaters..) with $50 bills will be constantly complaining about the state of abject poverty they live in.
Seven hours before closing time December 24, Wal-Mart will start setting up displays of huge saccharine Valentine’s Bears, each clutching over-sized satin hearts.
Any mall containing a theater will have an aroma of popcorn frying in rancid canola emanating into the hall. The smell will be strong enough to gag a badger. And patrons will buy it at prices per ounce greater than those for top sirloin, under the impression it’s somehow “healthy” for them, and that the 4 tablespoons of salt on it somehow don’t count.