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

Story 317: No Thanks for What You’re Giving

            (Friend 2 gets into the passenger side of a car driven by Friend 1)

        Friend 2: (Once seated, sees that there are wadded-up tissues everywhere) Ewwwww!!!!!  Are you sick?!

           Friend 1: (Speaks with a clogged head and an interrupted throat) No, I don’t feel sick, it’s probably just allergies.  (Sneezes out the open window and drives)

           Friend 2: (Rolls down the passenger side window all the way – it is 22°F outside) I don’t believe you, and even if it is allergies how can you still want to go to your family’s Thanksgiving dinner?

            Friend 1: (Wipes nose noisily) `S tradition.

          Friend 2: I think they’d understand.  I don’t even want to go now, what with the contamination.

          Friend 1: Would you relax?  It’s all symptoms, no substance – it’s literally all in my head.  (Coughs violently and nearly hits a deer standing on top of a grassy hill) I feel fine!

            Friend 2: (Holding head to shield from a collision) Liar.

            (At Friend 1’s family’s house)

            Friend 2: You go in first – I don’t want them to think I brought you and your infection here.

            Friend 1: You’re ridiculous.

            (Door opens)

            Cousin 1: Hi!  Happy Thanksgiving – come on in!  (Widens the door for Friend 1 and Friend 2 to enter and face everyone in the living room)

            Everyone: Hiiiiii!!!!

            Friend 1: `Abb-y Tanks-gibing, ebbry-one!

            (Everyone stares at Friend 1 in horror; Grandmother runs in from the kitchen)

            Grandmother: (Points an accusing wooden spoon at Friend 1) Are you sick?!

           Friend 1: (Blowing nose) Heh-heh-heh, no, it’s just allergies or change-of-season; I feel great!  (Sneeze-coughs)

           Grandmother: (To the rest of the room) No kissing, no hugging, no touching that one!  (Uses the wooden spoon to push Friend 1 to the farthest corner of the living room, kicks an Uncle out of a folding chair there, and points to it) Sit!

            Friend 1: Aw, Grandma – (Is whacked on the head by the wooden spoon) Ow!  (Sits)

           Grandmother: You’re lucky this isn’t the porch outside!  (To Friend 2) You!  Stay here, too – we’ll bring you both your food.

            Friend 2: (Whines) But why do I have to stay all the way out here?

            Grandmother: You’re contaminated!

            Friend 2: (To Friend 1) See!

           Grandmother: Go watch the parade and don’t move from this spot – dinner’s now delayed an hour thanks to your shenanigans!  (Returns to the kitchen while everyone moans)

            Friend 1: (Pulls a wine bottle out of a bag) Well, if I’m shoved into this corner then I guess no one’ll be needing this – (Cousin 2 snatches it away) Hey!  Isn’t that “contaminated” now?

            Cousin 2: (While rubbing the bottle all over with a bleach wipe) This is actually the one thing where the contents self-disinfect.

FOUR HOURS LATER

          (Friend 2 is sitting on the couch next to Friend 1’s chair, which is surrounded by growing piles of tissues, plates of snacks, and “DO NOT CROSS” tape)

          Friend 2: (Staring at the TV) You know, this situation has given me a whole new appreciation for football as a sport.

        Friend 1: (Watching a movie on a phone) Wonderful.  (Sneezes; a passing Aunt sprays disinfectant in the Friends’ direction) That’ll just make me sneeze more!

            Aunt: But it’ll be a clean sneeze.

            Grandmother: OK everyone, sit down, dinner’s ready!

            Uncle: Hee-hee, we’re already sitting down.

            Grandmother: Smart mouths get served last!

          (There is a rush to the two adult tables and the kitchen kiddie table; Friend 1 looks around, then darts to an empty chair at one of the bigger tables)

            Cousin 3: Grand-ma!  My cousin’s trying to break quaran-tine!

           (Wearing oven mitts, Grandmother grabs Friend 1 by the ear and tosses the body back onto the folding chair in the living room)

           Friend 1: (All the way back) Ow – ow – ow – ow – cough – cough – cough – gasp – gasp – cough –

            Grandmother: (Grabs a bunch of cough drops from her apron pocket and flings them at Friend 1) I’d better not hear another sound from this corner or you get nuthin’ from the table, do you hear me?!  (To Friend 2) What would you like for dinner, dear?

            Friend 2: Um, could I have a drumstick and some sides, please?  And a glass of milk?

            Grandmother: Of course.  (Turns to leave)

            Friend 1: Could I have all that too, please?  (Sneezes)

         Grandmother: I’ll think about it.  (To the tables) Now – everyone, take a turn saying what you’re thankful for.

            Aunt: (Looking at Friend 1) Good health.

            Uncle: (Looking at Friend 1) Good health.

            Cousin 4: (Looking at Friend 1) Good health.

            Cousin 5: (Looking at Friend 1) Good health.

            Friend 1: (Mutters) Brats.  (Sneezes)

TWO HOURS LATER

            Friend 1: (Wrapped in a blanket and holding a tissue) You think they’ll let me sneak a piece of apple pie from the table?

            Friend 2: How can you even be thinking of food right now – you look like you’re dying!

          Friend 1: Still hungry, which means I’m NOT SICK!  (Shouted at the main table, which the relatives playing cards there ignore)

            Grandmother: (Carrying a coffee urn) Everyone, sit down – dessert!

          (Rush to the two main tables, since one-third of the original company had moved on to the next set of families)

            Friend 1: (To Friend 2) Grab me a chocolate doughnut, would you?  (Coughs a lot)

            Friend 2: Ew, no; I’ll get you some tea.

          Grandmother: Oh no, you don’t – no one from that corner of the room moves until everyone else has left for the night!

            Friend 2: (In a small voice) But I have to go to the bathroom.

          (Everyone digs into the multitude of desserts; Friend 1 watches sullenly, then begins cough-laughing)

            Friend 2: What, aren’t you still bitter?

            Friend 1: Yeah, but joke’s on them: this means I don’t have to help clean up this year.

"Victoria and Albert, Present-Day Commoners" - Video

Here is a link to a video of the performance of a one-act play that I had written, "Victoria and Albert, Present-Day Commoners," performed by The Grange Playhouse in Howell, NJ on November 10, 2019: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOBZwqHzXn0

"Breaking the Fairy Tale Curse" - Video

One-act Sleeping Beauty parody, performed by The Grange Playhouse in Howell, NJ on November 10, 2019: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWQZyomMTRg

Story 316: Immigrating to Denial Land

            (At a Customs desk)

            Official: (Stamps a passport) I’ve heard enough – welcome to Denial Land, enjoy your new life of blissful ignorance, next!

            Immigrant: (Approaches the desk and hands over passport) Hello, how are you today –

          Official: (Takes passport and slams a button on the desk) You’ve been selected for random interrogation – follow that officer, please.  (Gestures to Officer standing off to the side)

            Immigrant: Oh.  Blast.  Why?

           Official: You’re too chipper.  Look at all the lost souls around you.  (Immigrant looks around and sees everyone on the lines have faces of despair) Need to make sure you really mean to block out all remnants of your old life and resettle in a new land of thought suppression.

            Immigrant: But I do, I –

            Official: Save it for the interview, next!

            (Immigrant is led to a back room and seated at a table across from Officer, who looks over the passport)

            Officer: So: what brings you to Denial Land?

            Immigrant: Well, for starters, my whole family is here – they came quite some time ago.

            Officer: Understandable.

            Immigrant: So you see, there’s nothing for me back home; I need a fresh start.

            Officer: Details, please.

            Immigrant: (Slumps back in chair) Oh, where to begin?!

            Officer: Preferably the beginning, but anywhere will do.

            Immigrant: OK, um, one major motivator is, my job is garbage.

            Officer: So nu?

           Immigrant: Yeah, except mine is literally garbage: I drive a truck for the sanitation department, so you can imagine the stench alone would drive one mad, if I still had my sense of smell, the loss of which has also affected my sense of taste, but I digress.

            Officer: You do.

           Immigrant: So, the work can get pretty dangerous, with the unpredictable dumpsters and the homicidal street traffic and the random unruly residents, and the hours are really bad, and I just survived another round of layoffs which means they doubled our routes yet expect us to finish them in the same amount of time as before, which is physically impossible.

            Officer: I would think so.

            Immigrant: It’s gotten unbearable, multiple times: I get so little sleep, and my nerves are shot, and I keep getting colds all year long, and the union can’t really do much for us anymore, and the worst part of it is, I can’t just quit and find another job because no one else’ll have me.

           Officer: I doubt that: even if, I’m assuming, you don’t have a higher ed degree, you have the driving and operating heavy machinery experience – plus customer service, dealing with the rowdy homeowners.

            Immigrant: I’ve gone on 200 interviews in the past three years.

            Officer: Ouch.

            Immigrant: That’s what my brain says every day.

           Officer: Well, I can see how that’d put a damper on things, but I’m gonna need a little more.  What else do you want to be in permanent denial about?

           Immigrant: Um, well, lately my friends’ve been saying they don’t want to hang out with me anymore because I spend the whole time complaining, which bums them out.

            Officer: I agree with them.

           Immigrant: They also say I never include the tip when I pay my share of the check, which is totally bogus.

            Officer: `Cause you actually include the tip and they don’t see it?

            Immigrant: No, I mean tipping is bogus: just pay your employees a living wage for doing their jobs, for crying out loud!  No one tips me, and my life is on the line a boatload more times than theirs.

            Officer: Really?

          Immigrant: Have you ever had a two-ton dumpster hanging above your head and the only thing keeping it from crushing you flat is a set of weathered levers?

            Officer: Fair enough.  Anything else you’d like to add?

            Immigrant: Yes: I will never find true love and I would like not to care.

           Officer: Done.  (Stamps passport and stands; Immigrant also stands as Officer hands over the passport) Welcome to Denial Land; hope your new life here treats you better than your life in Reality Land did.

           Immigrant: Thank you so much!  I’m really looking forward to this: I’ve heard it’s very serene and comforting, living in Denial.

           Officer: It’s freakin’ amazing – I’m frankly surprised the entire world hasn’t immigrated here yet.