Before Christmas, I did suggest you kept your eyes and ears open for this Challenge. It's a fair chance that you may have come across something interesting to say about "Christmas Shopping". I was going to call it "Christmas Presents", but as you may not have bought any (well, none of you have sent me one) I decided to make it a slightly wider brief. I'm sure that someone has had interesting experiences - like dropping a bottle of Glenmorangie (surely not you, Geoff?), or a charming experience with a good-humoured assistant.

Anyway, the usual limit of up to 300 words, although you can do it in verse. I don't mind whether it is a real experience, or a fictional one, but it should read as though it was real: that's going to be the real test on this challenge.

You'll have to send it to me this time, because I forgot to make out the list for the next challenges. Send it by Alpha Day 7, January 25th.

John's entry: He walked round the store, moving easily between the rows of gifts and toiletries. I watched in awe as he removed items, studied them, and casually placed them in an inner pocket in his oversize raincoat. He didn’t seem at all concerned that anyone could be watching him. I knew though, that he was very experienced at this.   Wandering from store to store, he continued to complete his Christmas shopping. After an hour or so he walked briskly to the nearby multi-story car park, where he put his shopping in the boot of his expensive car.   Lunch was next on the menu, and a neatly packed box of sandwiches was slowly consumed, along with a flask of hot coffee.   Then back to work. Shopping now for clothes, a twin set, a man’s cardigan and several pairs of socks disappeared into the large concealed pockets. Again no one seemed to notice his sleight of hand.   A woman approached him at one point, and I thought that his cover was blown, but no. All she wanted was advice on a particular colour of shirt for her husband. He smiled and sorted through the racks until she had the gift she wanted. She thanked him profusely and continued on her way.   By now his shopping was complete, so it was back to the car, unloading his shopping, and off home.   Up to this point I had not seen his face, but as he put the items away ready for gift-wrapping, his reflection appeared in a large mirror; and I saw my other self. Zena's entry: HM Government Preparing for Emergencies: What you need to know Know your Christmas shopping disaster plans Get to the shops immediately. Aim for crowds. Crowds mean special offers Stay away from damaged displays to avoid falling tinsel. Move at least 2 yards away Always have a back-up plan for out-of-stock items. If you see someone hurt, do not try to help. Move to your next shop immediately.   Before you set off, try to gather together: List of useful phone numbers, such as your therapist’s Recreational drugs First Aid kit, elbow pads Credit cards Also, it is useful to have: Bottled water, ready-to-eat food and tin opener, in case you have to remain at the shops for several days If your children are at school you will naturally not want to collect them sooner than necessary. Children can safely be left to the care of your local council for several days. In emergencies, they can remain until they reach adulthood. If you find yourself in a crush, your common sense and instincts will usually tell you what to do. However, it is important to: Make sure you are not injured before attempting to harm anyone else Panic others into going home early Seek alcohol if you notice the following problems: Excessive bleeding         Trouble using the arm or leg you have just spent         Headache         Blurred vision caused by flashing lights         Dry mouth from shouting         Vomiting or diarrhea from too much ready-to-eat food         Rash or burning skin. There is no need to be rash if you’ve followed your plans. Cigarettes should always be extinguished on other people         Hearing problems from seasonal musack         Injuries that increase in pain, such as bruised egos GO OUT, STAY OUT, PASS OUT Christine's entry: My answering machine is flashing. It’s an ancient model – like myself – some words tend to come out blurred. “Hi, Granny! Mum says you want to know what I’d like for Christmas.” So far so good. Megan is eleven and very well spoken. Last time I saw her was when I visited them in September. Not that I saw much of her. She spent most of the weekend at the tennis club. I listen carefully. “I’d love the latest album by …. They’re my favourite group.” I play that back a couple of times, but can’t catch the name. I press ‘forward’. “But what I really, really want, Granny, is an …” I screw up my eyes in concentration and listen again. An eye pad? Is that it? It’s expensive she says. The album would be fine. I try once more, but that’s my best guess. Something for the tennis? After all there are kneepads, shoulder pads, breast pads, notepads and inkpads. Why not eye pads? I suspect some shop assistants enjoy making you feel like a retarded centenarian that should never have been allowed out. There are three of them around me in the sports shop – mere kids – pretending to be helpful. “The only eye pads I’ve heard of,” one girl says, “are for cosmetic use.” She looks meaningfully at me. Beyond repair. I hasten to explain about my granddaughter, who plays tennis. They look totally nonplussed. “You don’t think she said iPod, by any chance?” I watch them, superior in their knowledge of a strange, new world, and they burst into giggles. I am a retarded centenarian. Actually, they’re wonderful. Their explanations make my head ache, but they direct me to the right shop, and I emerge from it – clutching an iPod. Cost me a bomb, though.