It was a Christmas shopping season characterized by some disturbing new trends.

First off there were the parking lot hounds. I suppose you could call them "Lurkers". Whatever you want to call them they were out in full force during the Christmas shopping rush.

They typically sit in their enormous American sedans waiting like bloated buzzards to pounce on the next available parking space that comes up. They can be seen hovering around the parking places next to the handicap spots. The spaces closest to the mall entrance. They wait.

Usually they are males who apparently have time to kill while the mother and her brood roam the stores in search of gift items to shower upon their relations who are at other malls waiting to swoop down and score a parking spot.

There also seemed to a high number of people who roamed shopping malls with glazed eyes and trance-like stares. The Christmas Undead were distinguishable by their shopping bags. Like trick or treaters dumped in a bad neighborhood, their goody bags were goodyless. They slide their loafers over the spotless mall floors and are constantly saying "Excuse me." I had one bump into me on an escalator.

Not to be out done were the shoppers on a mission. They zoom from store to store with a predetermined course of action. Gone is the spontaneity of the moment. If it is not on their list, they don't want it. I saw one in a cheese shop ordering the sales clerk to find more picnic sausage and banana chips. When the clerk could not meet the demands of the focused shopper, the shopper politely explained that the clerk had ruined Christmas.

Clerks were not exempt. This year they were either too pushy or had been hanging out too long with the Christmas Undead.

I was sprayed at least a dozen times by the same lycra-clad perfume sales clerk. "Would you like to try Chronos for Men?" she asked. "No thank you" did not work and I was sprayed like an unsuspecting dog who wanders up nose to nose with a skunk.

Stinking from the attack a looped back and hit the men's room. Leaving, I saw the Chronos girl and believed she would realize I was already scented with the fragrance that leaves women yearning for more. Again the obligatory question and a blast from the special seasonal decanter.

I also thought there were an unprecedented number of calls for credit card authorizations. I talked to the pleasant customer sales representative at least five times at one of the better department stores.

When that little beep is heard and the clerk reaches for the phone there is a feeling of global uncomfortableness that pervades the air.

First, you as the card holder begin to have visions of bouncing checks and angry phone calls from bill collectors. Next step financial ruin. Christmas is destroying my life.

Then there is the next person in line who mentally calculates every single credit card purchase made to date and figures in the interest to insure they are no subjected to the all embarrassing call for authorization.

Lastly there is the clerk. On the front line, they are the messenger and interpreter. They are hit with a rainstorm of excuses and rationales like: "How can this be, I just paid the bill", "My God, I just got this card", "Wait til I get home. That husband of mine is going to have to explain" and "Please, please, ring it through. My son is counting on this Demented Blood Crazed Warrior From Hades figurine. You can't stop Christmas for him."