Christmas, whilst it can be a lovely time, can also be a complete minefield for awkwardness.  

Christmas shopping does me in. I love giving people gifts, genuinely taking the time to think of things they’d like... but having to be around a fuck tonne of people to get them is utterly fucking atrocious.  

People seem to forget what personal space is at this time of year, along with their manners. 

I swear, the way some people tut at you just because you’re looking at something they want to reach… like sorry, Karen, I didn’t realise browsing was exclusive to you.  

Their patience disappears, and I can feel my own awkward meter rising. Someone starts hovering behind me, practically trying to wear my fucking skin and suddenly I’m apologising profusely for doing something I have every right to do. 

Their task isn’t more important than mine, their need for this product isn’t greater than mine and yet somehow, I still find myself moving aside, pretending to be distracted by something else and awkwardly circling back later hoping they’ve fucked off so I can actually look in peace.  

You also become more aware of the distance you keep!

Like, I am constantly thinking people think that I am following them. I practically fling myself out of the way assuming I am taking up more space than I actually am.  

Another thing about shopping is the staff who are clearly on commission or have been pushed to try and drive sales.

 Lush, I love you. You are genuinely one of my favourite stores. 

However, when I hear those infamous words “Can I help you with anything?” my stomach drops straight through my arse. 

Unless I muster up the excruciatingly painful courage to initiate a conversation myself, please assume I have no need for assistance. I just want to sniff things without feeling judged. I don’t want a bath bomb demonstration because then I’ll feel pressured to respond overly enthusiastically. There's only so many ‘Oo’s’ and ‘ah’s’ I can do without getting the ‘witch doctor’ stuck in my fucking head.  

...and, then there’s ending up feeling pressured to buy things you don’t even bloody want! 

 I feel like sometimes I should walk into shops with a “Please Fuck Off” sign on my head. Too much? Hmm, probably. 

Then there’s the not being able to decide about an item bollocks.

You pick it up. You put it down, you walk away. You come back; you pick it up. Rinse and repeat, until you look like a pigeon picking up a dirty dog end for the millionth time and realising it’s a dog end and not a cocking chip.

 You do all of this whilst praying the shop assistants don’t think you've got a screw loose.  

 What is it as well with the accidental conga line you didn’t realise you’d committed to? 

A lot of shops seem to now have a ‘one route’ system. You have a short amount of time to look at something, or you are holding up the queue. Then if you need to double back on yourself, you’ve got to do an awkward scoot wading through disgruntled shoppers.

 ‘Sorry! Excuse me! Pardon me!’ 

I end up performing this awkward curtsy, like I’m a sickly 18th century lady accepting a request to dance. Fucking ridiculous.  

There are so many things my awkwardness has to contend with. My nervous system is honestly shot to shit once I’ve done a Christmas shop. I need to be left alone to lie down in a dark, quiet room.  

It is annoying as well, because I love Christmas so much, the awkward exhaustion can take the fun out of it sometimes.  

This is why I praise the Lord that there is online shopping. I will go out and do some physical shopping, because for a limited time, I enjoy it and I encourage any fellow awkward beings to do the same even if it's just for an hour or two.  

At the end of the day, Christmas shopping will always be a mine field for the socially awkward. There is something strangely rewarding about surviving it isn’t there?

 I’m seriously considering branding some Well awkward ‘Please Fuck Off’ forehead signs. Let me know if you are interested. (I’m only half-joking). 

X