Story 421: The Joy of Wrapping Presents

 DECEMBER 23

Friend 2: (Answers the phone while baking cookies) Hi – what’s up?

Friend 1: (On the phone while walking through a beyond-crowded mall) Oh, not much: just doing my annual last-minute holiday shopping, same as the rest of the world here with me right now.  (Waves to the crowds)

Crowds: (Waving to Friend 1) Hiiiiiii!!!! (Resume frenzy)

Friend 1: You done with your shopping yet?

Friend 2: Hanukkah was over three weeks ago this year, so, yeah.

Friend 1: Right.  Lucky.

Friend 2: Also lucky you and I don’t exchange gifts – one less person to shop for.

Friend 1: Best present ever.  I should be done here in another three hours, but the mall closes in two so everyone’ll just have to take whatever I wind up with by then.

Friend 2: That’s the spirit.

Friend 1: (Passing by a card store) Shoot, I just remembered I also have to get more wrapping paper and bows and all that garbage – maybe four hours.

Friend 2: Why not just get gift bags for everybody?  Then you can throw whatever gift in there and fluff some tissue paper around it and that’s that: minimal effort involved.

Friend 1: Ugh, who wants all gift bags?!  That’s the lazy way out – Christmas unequivocally requires tearing apart massive amounts of paper and high-tensile ribbon to reveal the glory within.

Friend 2: If you say so.  Might be easier on you, though – I’ve seen your wrapping in action, and it’s not pretty.

Friend 1: What?!  I know how to wrap!  (Teenagers passing by start to lay down a beat; to Teenagers) Not “rap” – (Holds up all the shopping bags) “wrap!”

Teenagers: (In realization) Ohhhhhh.... (Move along)

Friend 2: You may know in theory, but the reality has a bit lost in translation.

Friend 1: I’ll show you!  I’ll show ALL OF YOU!

Friend 2: Who else are you talking to?

Friend 1: You know – The World.

Friend 2: `K, I’ll let you get to it then – bye.  (Disconnects the call and leisurely starts a new batch of cookies while humming) I love this time of year.

Friend 1: (Scrambles to put away the phone, dropping every other bag) I hate this time of year!

Mall Loudspeaker: Attention, shoppers: the mall will be closing in 30 minutes – we ask at this time that you please begin to get out –

Friend 1: WHAT?!  (Drops the remaining bags while scrambling to look at a watch) HOW DID I LOSE TWO HOURS?!

Parent: (Passing by, surrounded by small children) Very easily.

 DECEMBER 24

(In apartment, Friend 1 is sitting on the living room floor surrounded by gifts, wrapping paper, bows, ribbons, gift bags, tissue paper, tags, and a pen)

Friend 1: Right.  Start with the biggest one first.  (Grabs an asymmetrical package) Well, no one’d actually expect this this to be wrapped.  (Dumps it into a large gift bag, writes on the tag, and crams a bunch of tissue paper into it; nods in satisfaction at the end result)  Right.  Next!  (Grabs a rectangular department store box, measures the paper, cuts, and tries to cover the box but did not leave enough paper for that) Grrrrrr – no, no, mustn’t flip out, I can use the paper for something else, we’ll just try again.  (Measures the paper, cuts, and tries to cover the box but did not leave enough paper for that) GRRRR – OK, skip the box, this’ll be a great gift bag, too.  (Dumps the lump of cloth that was in the box into a large gift bag, writes on the tag, and crams a bunch of tissue paper into it; nods in satisfaction at the end result) Right.  Next!  (Grabs a smaller box) OK, can’t mess this one up, right?  (Measures the paper, cuts, and fits it perfectly around the box) Heh-heh-heh-heh – (Reaches for the tape and realizes there is none) Son of a – !

 ONE HOUR LATER

(Friend 1 returns from the local office supply store, slams the front door shut, rips off coat, hat, and gloves, plops back onto the living room floor, rips open the tape box, and inserts the roll into the dispenser, grumbling the whole time)

Friend 1: (Taping the perfectly wrapped box) If one more person gets in my way – I did not cut you in line, you tried to cut me – whoever designed that parking lot hates people – maybe if you put your shopping cat in the conveniently located corral like a decent human being, it wouldn’t have hit both our cars later – (Finishes the tag and views the box) Ah?  Ahahahahaha!  I did it!  Take that!  (Takes a picture of the wrapped gift and sends it to Friend 2; typing) “In… your… face….” (Sends the message and tosses the phone to the floor) Saying I can’t wrap – maybe you can’t wrap.  (Starts on the next gift and receives a message notification)

Friend 2’s Message: Fluke.

Friend 1: (Angrily typing) “Who… asked… you?!”

Friend 2’s Message. (Several seconds later) You did.

Friend 1: (Angrily typing) “Leave me alone, I need to wrap presents for my loving family!”  (Tosses away the phone)

Friend 2’s Unread Message: You’re ridonkulous.

(Friend 1 wraps the remaining gifts in a whirlwind of activity – most of the packages have crooked seams, barely meeting edges, bulging sides, multiple layers of paper to cover bare sections, and bows, ribbons, and tags anywhere and everywhere)

Friend 1: (Stands up on cramped legs, surveying the disaster) Well, they’ll just have to like it or lump it.

 DECEMBER 25

(At Friend 1’s parents’ house, the family tears apart the hours of wrapping to reveal the glory within)

Friend 1: (Wearing a new fuzzy sweater over pajamas) Well Fam, another good haul this year – I thank ye.

Mother: Yes, thank you both, now let’s clean up this mess.

Father: I’ll get the trash bags.  (Trots out of the living room, brushing wrapping debris off of clothes on the way)

Friend 1: (To Mother) I have to ask: honestly, does my wrapping make you ashamed to call me your child?

Mother: Oh honey, why does it even matter?

Friend 1: It’s been brought to my attention, and by asking why it matters you’re revealing that it does.

Mother: (Laughs and hugs Friend 1) Sweetie.  (Pulls back) You’re being ridonkulous.  (Grabs several gifts to start putting things away)

Friend 1: (Stares at the brightly lit and overly decorated Christmas tree, then looks over at the nativity scene on the nearby table; addresses the newly added Baby Jesus) I guess we should all be thankful I don’t have to wrap you.

Story 396: I Totally Remember What I’m Supposed to Give for Father’s Day

 (Relaxing on a hammock in the backyard, Dad answers a ringing cell phone)

Dad: Oh hi, what’s up?

Friend 1: Can’t a loving child call their father for no reason?

Dad: They can, but I’m going to see you tomorrow anyway so your call today piques my curiosity.

Friend 1: Yes, well, seeing as that’s Father’s Day and all, in the hustle-and-bustle of restaurant reservations and driving logistics and what-not, I realized I forgot to ask what you’d like as a gift.

Dad: No you didn’t.

Friend 1: What’s that?

Dad: You didn’t forget, you asked me when you had dinner here a few weeks ago, and I’d said then all you had to give me was –

Friend 1: Oh right, that!  Of course I remember, hustle-and-bustle, I was just testing you!  Silly.

Dad: Listen, it’s OK if you forgot, there’s a lot going on and we all have our moments as we get older –

Friend 1: Nope!  No, this isn’t a moment – I remember everything perfectly – I’ll go get to it right now – byeeeeee!!!  (Disconnects the call and flees out the front door)

Dad: (Stares at the phone in concern) Oh dear.  I hope this doesn’t become a whole thing; it’s my day, after all, by gum.

(Meanwhile, Friend 1 drives to the local mall and tears through it in a tizzy with all the other last-minute Father’s Day shoppers)

Friend 1: (Plowing through a crowd in a bookstore) Outta my way!  (Scanning the displays) Military history?  True crime?  Biography?  Sci-fi Romance?  How could I have lived with this man the entire first half of my life and not know what he likes?!  (A thought hits the cranium) Oh – maybe he actually said he wants a new wallet.  (Plows through the crowd to the nearest department store and scans the displays)  Leather?  Pleather?  Or did he really want a tie instead?  (Feels a tap on the shoulder and spins around) What are you doing here?

Friend 2: I could ask you the same thing: you never go to the mall.

Friend 1: Well, I’m just like everyone else here today, another victim of holiday panic-shopping – you?

Friend 2: I had to order my gift and pick-up was today.

Friend 1: Why didn’t you just ship it home?

Friend 2: I like to support my local superstore.  Need any help picking out something?

Friend 1: Nope!  No, I know exactly what I’m getting; just trying to decide on size – color – shape – molecular structure –

Friend 2: Did you forget what he asked you to get him?

Friend 1: …I am neither confirming nor denying that.

Friend 2: You can ask him again, you know; he’ll understand.

Friend 1: But I won’t!

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: I can’t have forgotten something like this, it’d just be so stupid!  So I’m going to keep looking at random objects until the memory obediently bobs back up to the surface of my drowning brain and I can snag that sucker once and for all!

Friend 2: Or you could confess all and get him a generic gift card.

Friend 1: Never!

 FATHER’S DAY

(At a restaurant, Dad, Mom, and Friend 1 have brunch)

Dad: I think I’m going to go all out today and order French toast and a Western omelet.

Mom: Go right ahead: it’s a holiday, so the stomach pains don’t count.

Dad: Good point – maybe some of that will be to-go.  (Nods at a large bag on the floor by Friend 1’s chair) So, what’ve you got there, sport?

Friend 1: Well, I was thinking, since your birthday and other gift-giving holidays’ll be here before you know it, why not just skip the wait and give them all to you now?  (Dumps various-sized wrapped presents onto the table) Happy Everything, Dad!

Dad: Wow, that’s swell, thank you!

Friend 1: You’re welcome!  (Slumps slightly in relief)

Dad: (Grabs a present and begins unwrapping it) You do know, since the three of us hadn’t eaten out together in so long, all I’d asked you and your mother for today was a nice Sunday brunch, right?

Mom: (To Friend 1) You were very vocal in your relief at the lack of effort involved.

Friend 1: (Eyes widening in final remembrance) I’m starting to recall such a conversation occurring.

            Dad: (Puts on the tie he unwrapped and grabs another present) It’s OK – you’re young yet, so it’s only downhill from here, kiddo.

Friend 1: (Starts to reach out to take back the present) Well wait, we should save these for later this year then –

Dad: (Holds present to his chest) Nope!  No, I’m opening these now, this is my day!  You’re set for the rest of the year.

Friend 1: But I can’t not get you anything when those days come up, I’ll feel like I forgot again!

Dad: Don’t make this a whole thing!

Story 371: Do Your Last-Minute Gift Shopping in Bad Weather

(Snow is gently falling from the twilight sky – don’t be fooled, the flakes on the ground are hard as a rock and nearly a foot deep on grass and pavement alike.  Dad stands at the living room window, watching the accumulation outside with a maniacal smile)

Dad: (Softly) At last, the world is mine.  (Throws on a heavy coat, gloves, and boots and heads to the front door)  I’m goin’ out to do my Christmas shopping, bye!

Mom: (Curled up in an armchair, not looking up from the book she is reading) Gotta clean off the car and driveway first.

Dad: AREADY DID IT!  (The front door blows shut behind him)

Mom: (Looks up with a confused frown as squealing tires screech along the driveway and down the street) When?

(On the highway, Dad drives between 10 and 15 mph with both the defroster and the radio blasting)

Dad: “Jingle bells”…. (Swerve) “Silver bells”…. (Skid) “Just hear those sleigh bells”…. (Stutter-stop)…. “The bells of Christmas”.... (Swerve-skid) “The bells of St. Mary’s”…. (Slams to a stop in a parking spot at a mall) Sure are a lot of bells this time of year.  (Purposefully strides toward the mall entrance and stops just inside a main door, whipping out a list.  Looking around, there are some crowds but not as many as are usually there on December 23) Perfect.  The storm filtered out the weak.  (He goes from store to store, accumulating bags bursting with items as he whistles carols all the while, handing a candy cane to a Santa Claus as he passes by the pop-up North Pole near the elevators.  Leaning on the checkout at one store while Cashier 1 rings up the purchase) If anyone asked me what I’d like for Christmas, it’d be for someone to pay off my credit card, know-what-I-mean?  (Dad and Cashier 1 simultaneously glance down at the huge pile of stuff he is buying; in a small voice) Don’t judge.

Cashier 1: Not in my job description.

(At a soaps-and-scents store, Dad strolls in, spreads his arms wide, and inhales deeply)

Dad: Aaaaaaaaaaaah – never knew how good this place smelled without the mass of shoppers blocking all my senses.

Associate: Do you need any help?

Dad: For once, no!  I can actually see where everything is in here!  (Skips from display to display, filling up a basket and zooming to the register)

Cashier 2: Bag?  Coupon?  Free gift?  Free gift wrap?

Dad: Wow, never got asked all that here before.

Cashier 2: Never had enough time to go through the list when we have to ring up 500 customers an hour.

Dad: I’ll take it all then.

(At the nearly empty food court, Dad heads toward a burger place)

Dad: (To Cashier 3) Yes, I’d like a triple-decker well done, all the fries, and two milkshakes – one to go.  (Winks)

Cashier 3: (Shutting off the lights) Sorry sir, we’re actually closing early due to the storm, and we never close early this time of year.  You’re the first person who’s come by in over two hours.  (Lights in the other food kiosks also turn off)

Dad: Point taken.  (Walks back to the main mall) Would’ve been nice to have the whole seating area to pick from, though.

(At another store, Dad is reading all the greeting cards)

Mall Loudspeakers: Attention, last-minute shoppers!  Due to the horrific conditions outside, we’ve decided to value human lives over any piddling dollars these struggling stores may make and are closing NOW!  Go home, you weirdos!

Dad: (Piling up an armful of cards and yelling up at the ceiling) Hey!  I haven’t gotten so much shopping done so fast in… ever!

Cashier 4: (Flashing the store’s lights) Bring what you have, please, so I can ring you up and finally get the blazes out of here!

Dad: (Dumps all the cards onto the counter) Oh fine, I was done anyway.  (In the parking lot, mountains of ice-snow outnumber the cars as Dad carefully balances his many bags and walks pigeon-toed to one of the closest spots to the mall, where his car is parked.  He dumps everything into the trunk, slams the door shut, then looks toward the mall as snow sticks to his eyelashes, the last remaining shoppers and employees stream out, and the interior lights turn off) Best Christmas shopping trip of my life.

Story 318: All I Want for Christmas Is Nothing to Give and Nothing to Get

Dear Santa,

            I am a reasonable human being.  I like to think I have a firm grasp on reality.  So I am not going to mince words with you: this Christmas, I will not ask for one single present, from you or from anyone else, at all, not one.  In return, I only ask that I not be required, requested, and/or obligated to give one single present, to you or to anyone else, at all, not one.

            To put it bluntly, Mr. Claus, I simply cannot take it any longer.  Everyone complains, yet they compulsively do it anyway: you know what I mean, the massive, overwhelming, soul-destroying marathon that is holiday shopping.  Many of us have too much stuff as it is, but there we all go, off to the sales races again.  And so we go through the motions, year after dreaded year, piling into horrendous traffic, piling into overcrowded stores, piling into the worst zeniths of consumerism, stuff, stuff, stuff.  Will all that stuff fill the empty void currently taking up residence in our hearts?   The answer of course is “No,” but most act as if it is “Yes.”

            And as the coins in my piggy bank dwindle, I question the point of the whole thing.  Why do we continue to give gifts if the process of getting them has made the giver so utterly unhappy?  Does the recipient’s brief, passing joy make all that suffering worth it?  I guess.  Still does not make up for the four hours I will never get back from the mass chaos that is the mall.  How is that all of us always decide to go there at the same time, anyway?

            I would also like to discuss the futility of sending holiday cards, but that is too off-topic and would require a ream of paper to address adequately.

           Returning to the issue at hand, I would like to speak to the conundrum of online shopping: convenient for the consumer, perhaps, but inconvenient for the delivery person who now is in the previously mentioned traffic and also for the warehouse employee who has added your order to the 7,322 others waiting to be filled that day.  But it is guaranteed next-day delivery, since unnamed shopper forgot to order it until two days before the main event of Christmas or Hanukkah.

           Not to mention (but I will anyway), I have no idea what to get people, including members of my own family, unless they specifically tell me what they want.  Opera tickets?  A wooden sleigh?  Gift cards for soon-to-be-out-of-business restaurants?  It is exhausting trying to figure out a gift that will not be returned.

            I just cannot bear the stress of it all anymore, so I beg of you: please do not give me anything this year, and let me be relieved of the burden of having to give presents to anyone.  If you are so gracious as to grant this request, I warn you now I may ask for it again next year.

           I write to you every December, and in all my 42 years on this planet I have yet to receive a bona fide response from you or your staff.  I would greatly appreciate it if this year's anti-consumerism theme ended that streak.

                                                                        Always Affectionately Yours,

                                                                        Little Johnny