Lurked crusty old ladies and discount clipping bores.
Ready to mob shelves of product stacked here and there
Eagerly at the doors, these freaks do stare.
When retail slaves should be nestled all snug in their beds,
Instead they man the registers due to the holiday ads.
Kid demands a laptop, Mommy dearest quickly adds a Wii
To silence her hellspawn's screams of "Me, me meee."
Then at the front doors there arose a noise so ample,
We open the doors and pray not to get trampled,
The decorations now lie strewn, crushed, or smashed.
From one end to the other, lie messes galore,
Sadly not one thing is missed, here in our store.
Into the dressing rooms with horrible ado,
Someone’s abandoned diaper failed to contain all the poo.
And then our spineless, soulless, dear boss
Demanded we cater to their whims at all costs.
More rapid than eagles, their orders they came
They snarled and spat and called us bad names.
A teen demands “This! Sell me this right here!”
“No sir, you're much too young to buy all that beer.
I'm sorry ma’am, you missed what you desired,
Your coupon from last year has long since expired.”
If my coupon is expired, then my item is now free!
I have no patience, how dare you to defy my will!
You’re hiding my discounts so hurry up and spill!”
As tossed birds before the wild hurricane do fly
We are grabbed, shoved, and battered with nary a sigh.
Back to the break room we carefully try to retreat
Our muscles all aching; halfway through and we’re totally beat.
In the break room, a coworker shivers and cries
Stripped to the underwear by forty customers who tried
To seize one game that someone else wanted
Poor girl; she’s so much more than daunted.
I hear a shout, a curse and a scream
Apparently pepper spray is now the meme.
Sobbing and coughing they stagger their way to me
Apparently it’s all my fault that they can no longer see.
My wife says no more presents from the neighborhood bar.”
“Sorry sir, you know more about your family than I,
Just look around, and there should be something you can spy.”
The doors slam closed with a final crash
Registers are packed full with coupons and cash.
Our slave driving boss grabs his cap and doffs it
Apparently the company’s pleased by the slice of profit.
Piled higher than me, YES I am bitter.
For I’ll tell you this, in a voice delightfully bland,
There’s no such thing as “Holiday Cheer” in Retail Land.
So the next time at retail slaves you do sneer
Keep in mind this story, my dear.
Words like “Lowlife, no future, inferior”
Belong attached to the one you see in your mirror.