There was a time, decades ago, probably before "M.A.S.H." went off the air, when Christmas shopping was fun. And if it wasn't fun, at the very least parents weren't likely to assault each other with Cabbage Patch dolls. Not coincidentally, this also happened to be the period known to historians as The Era In Which You Could Just Go Into A Store And Buy Something And Then Leave. The way it worked was, you would drive to Sears, and you would pick out a top coat or a circular saw, take it to the cashier, give her some cash or write out a check, then exit the store. And that was it. No hassles. It was a simple system, and America loved it.

Today this isn't possible. You may have noticed the television commercials that portray a happy stream of customers using their Visa check cards, efficiently swiping and buying, swiping and buying, until some thoughtless dolt interrupts the process by having the temerity to settle the transaction with actual U.S. currency. In the commercial, the cashier and everybody else in line glare at the poor imbecile with the type of unspoken venom usually reserved for barnyard pornographers. In real life this probably wouldn't happen; in real life, they'd spit on the guy, too.

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This is because shoppers are agitated, and when people are agitated, they start doing crazy things.

I was at The Mall at Robinson the other week and saw a line, 30 people deep, at the Starbucks kiosk. Soviet Russia had shorter bread lines. Also bear in mind that, a quarter-mile away, there is another Starbucks. For the people at the end of the line it would have been more economical, from a time-management standpoint, to get in the car, drive to the other Starbucks and come back.

Of course this would have meant forfeiting a shopping-mall parking space on a Saturday afternoon, the height of lunacy. During the holiday season, a weekend space in a mall parking lot is more valuable than a black-market kidney. You think I'm exaggerating, but which would you rather have in your hand right now, a lifetime reserved parking pass at the mall of your choosing, or an ice-cold kidney? Be honest.

The reason shoppers are agitated in the first place, aside from that vague sense of dread that always seems to foreshadow the coming months of soul-crushing credit-card debt, is that cashiers won't let you leave the store without asking you a hundred questions.

The swiping and buying is a sugar-plum holiday fairy tale. Pretty soon they will be requiring a full health history before you can even buy a pair of sweat socks.

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2:32 p.m., FYE music and movie store.

Cashier (ringing up my CD): "Will this be all?"

Me: "Yes."

"Are you a member of the FYE Backstage Pass club?"

"No."

"Would you like to be?"

"Of course not."

"You get 10 percent off your purchase if you sign up right now."

"Please, no."

"OK. But if you let us swipe your driver's license, you can choose one of these three magazines to be delivered to your house. It's a new promotion."

"Can I leave the store now?"

"The magazines are absolutely free."

"I'm going to jab you with my car keys."

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2:54 p.m., Old Navy clothier.

Cashier (ringing up a sweater): "Will that be all?"

Me: "Yes."

"Do you have an Old Navy card?"

"No."

"Would you like to sign up today?"

"No."

"But you earn 5 percent rewards on every purchase."

"That's fine, but -- "

"The card is also good at Gap and Banana Republic."

"Sweet Baby Jesus, not again."

"Does your wife have a card?"

"She died in a hang-gliding explosion."

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

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3:18 p.m., Dick's Sporting Goods.

Cashier: "Did you find everything OK?"

Me: "Yes."

"Do you have a Dick's ScoreCard?"

"I seriously doubt it."

"You could sign up today, if you want."

"Honestly? I would rather eat a cockroach."

"You get $10 back for every $300 that you spend."

"I'll give you $10 right now to never talk to me again."

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3:47 p.m., Piercing Pagoda.

Cashier: "Will this be all?"

Me: "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"How much for a belly-button piercing?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Yes."

"Because anything else you buy will be half off today."

"Do I appear mentally deficient to you in some way?"

"Pardon?"

"If I wanted to buy something else, don't you think I would have told you that I wanted to buy something else? Do I look somehow incapable of articulating how many pieces of jewelry I wish to buy?"

"You seem very agitated, sir."

"I could use a cup of coffee."

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4:12 p.m., Best Buy.

Cashier: "Will there be anything else?"

Me: "Nothing, thank you."

"Do you have a RewardZone MasterCard?"

"Don't be an idiot."

"What's your ZIP code?"

"Uh, 90210."

"And your phone number?"

"I don't believe in telephones."

"What do you mean by that?"

"They cause brain tumors. Saw it in Reader's Digest. Don't you get Reader's Digest?"

"No."

"Really? If you give me your driver's license, I'll send you a copy for free."

"What?"

"Yeah, no kidding. Say, do you or anyone in your family have a history of diabetes?"