  Matt and I blocked out 4 hours last night for last minute shopping. Or, in my case, shopping... since I started and finished yesterday. This is the first year in a long time that I haven't bought everything on-line ahead of time. I was too busy (lazy) .
We began the 4 hour shopping experience the way that Matt and I like to do it... immediately apportioning a quarter of the time for eating and gossip. I consumed a 20 inch grinder (Michigan for sub sandwich, basically). The secret is a highly-controlled gag reflex. Then we went to the mall. Not many people there, at least not what you'd expect for 12/23. No lines, no waiting! Matt and I have developed a particular way of shopping. We multi-task, browsing for gifts while we browse the hotter gay boys. We also carry on a long conversation, generally about sex, just beneath the hearing threshhold of passersby. We played Spot The Homo on the way to Abercrombie and Fitch, where we dutifully bought presents for others and then indulged ourselves.
I bought a couple of long underwear type shirts that make my muscles bulge in important spots, and A&F's new "Fierce" cologne. I'm in a giving spirit... I give to myself. Harry and David's... and fruit baskets. How fitting. We looked over the fruitcake, my favorite! But since one serving has half the fat that one normal human should consume in a day , we moved on. I'm such a prude. I even talked Matt out of chocolate truffles. Saw a guy from the gym. He had his girlfriend with him, but we knew better. To the bath and body store and Williams and Sonoma. Did I mention we're gay? And on to Marshall Field's, where Matt bought an expensive toaster for his mom.
The toaster cost $50, but it's brushed aluminum and has more dials and buttons than one can imagine. I swear there was an ethernet port on the side. Have you noticed that friends and loved ones of gay men have the nicest skin and Calphalon cookware? Out the door at 9pm. How's that? The only disappointment was that A&F wasn't featuring the live models wearing underwear in the store that they had earlier in the season.
A friend of mine from the bar works at the store next door and I don't think he's done any work for the last 3 weekends. Unless sexual assault counts as work. Back home to put on my new shirts and flex in the mirror (I'm such a dork). And into the bed and under the covers... my eyes closing slowly just as Christmas Eve begins. 
