Why I'm going to the mall on Christmas Eve

Today, I'm going to Stanford Shopping Center. Not for Christmas shopping, because I'm kind of on the done side of that. No, I'm going because I need to be alone.
That sounds really weird I know. The mall, despite the rain, is going to be packed with last minute idiots who procrastinated because they think they can buy for 15 people and NO ONE is going to be at the mall.
Husband and a couple of other friends have said to me, "Do you know the mall is really full on Christmas Eve?" Despite the fact I worked in a mall for oh say five years, they don't realise that I am deeply aware of the fact that I'm exceptionally aware that the mall is packed on Christmas Eve. The fact is that I had to deal with drunken men showing up at four pm and saying they are starting Christmas shopping for their entire family (parents, in laws, children, wives etc) just then. I would tell them the mall closes at five and they'd laugh and say that the mall would stay open for them. And I would stay open for them. And I would say (since I was the lead on Christmas Eve which meant I was technically in charge), "Unless you plan to spend $5000 in my store, no I'm not." I'd get that indignant noise and a vague threat of telling my manager which I'd remind them that all of the employees of all the store actually want to go home and be with their families for some strange reason on Christmas Eve. We'd actually get a few assholes who were pissed off that we weren't open on Christmas Day because it inconvenienced them because they started their shopping at three pm on CE. Um, you had 11 months to plan this, what the fuck are you waiting for?
No, my Mom is here and she will take on Boy for a few hours so I can have time alone. I want to be where I don't have to make small talk or have to say "don't touch that" to Boy. Husband has to work so he's going to be indisposed until six. Even though Husband pointed out that last Saturday I had a pedicure so shouldn't that be considered time alone, I don't. Sitting in a chair while a polite Asian woman works on my feet asking questions she doesn't actually want the answer to isn't being alone. She would like me to ask her the same questions back so that she can increase the size of her tip. (If you think this is cynical, next time you go for a pedicure or a hair appointment even at the high end day spas around here, see what the conversation steers you to. In the end, you get a sob story from the facialist about how her grown daughter and her family are moving in with her because her husband lost his job. It is so she can get a bigger tip. The fact that maybe her son in law had a high paying job but they pissed most of it away on fabulous vacations and expensive cars instead of saving it for the down payment on the house they had on a variable rate mortgage that went through the freakin' roof doesn't come up.)
I just want to go away. Be around people without having to make a relationship with them even for an hour. Sure, there are a couple of things I need. I need hair care since my hair and scalp have put a massive veto on the cheap stuff I bought at Target. And there are a couple of things that I know Husband liked I got for him for his birthday that I would like to pick up for a stocking stuffer. The places I'm going to patronize aren't going to be packed with frantic faces desperate to impress someone (but on sale of course).
I want to eat a meal where I'm not trying to keep a small child from running around the restaurant. To read a magazine article or something off my iPod that relaxes me rather than stresses me. Drink my hot chocolate without having my arm yanked so it rains on my clothes.
Merry Christmas to me.