Story 319: I Lost Track of Which Holiday Cards I Sent

            Friend 1: (Sitting at a kitchen table surrounded by boxes of cards, address labels, stamps, and an address book) So, if I calculated this correctly, I can use just the cards from all these boxes from the past two years and not have to spend a dime on a single new card this year!  (Goes to work writing names, semi-personalized messages, and addresses, then labeling, stamping, and sealing; an hour and a half later) I did it?  All the cards are ready to go, and we didn’t even reach double-digits in the month yet?  My work is done, and this is now the post office’s problem, ahahahahaha!  (Raises arms in victory, then looks around the kitchen) Wait, who am I talking to?

ONE WEEK LATER

            (In a supermarket)

          Friend 1: (Shoving a shopping cart down an aisle) Grumble-grumble-work parties, grumble-grumble-why do I get stuck with cupcakes every year, grumble-grumble-grumble-next time maybe I shouldn’t volunteer to make them, grumble-grumble-grumble-

           Friend 2: (Rounding a corner with a shopping cart and almost crashing into Friend 1) Oh, hey!  How’ve you been?

            Friend 1: Miserable.  How’ve you been?

            Friend 2: Wishing I was home and not here, but you know, food.

            Friend 1: Yeah.  Necessary evil.

            Friend 2: Oh, by the way, thanks for the card!  Happy Hanukkah to you, too!

            Friend 1: Uhhh, thanks?  Did you convert?

         Friend 2: No, I thought you were just getting into the spirit of the season and celebrating everything this year.

            Friend 1: What are you – ohhhh, I sent you the wrong holiday.

           Friend 2: No worries; it makes me appreciate the spiritual side of the season more.  I tend to get too focused on the commercialism of it all, know-what-I-mean?

           Friend 1: No, now I’m mad, I thought I checked who I sending what to, and now this means I probably sent somebody who doesn’t celebrate anything remotely religious a baby Jesus card, and now I’m mad!

          Friend 2: I’m sure everybody’s fine with it – we’re all running around like we’ve lost our minds this time of year anyway, and it’s the thought that counts.

            Friend 1: Not to me, it doesn’t!  I demand accuracy!

            Friend 2: (Sighs and begins to leave) Enjoy your holidays.

            Friend 1: Yeah, you too.

THE NEXT DAY

            Friend 1: (On the phone) Hi, how’s everything?

         Uncle: (On the phone) Oh, same old: back’s acting up again, closed on the house yesterday, haven’t even started shopping –

            Friend 1: That’s great – listen, did you get a card from me yet?

           Uncle: Oh yes, thank you very much for that!  You should get mine before Christmas – I’m a little behind this year, what with the move –

          Friend 1: Quick question: was it an actual Christmas or general yuletide/wintery-themed card you got?

          Uncle: Umm, I think so, let me check.... (Sound of rustling) Yes, it’s got a bunch of animals and snow on it.  Why do you ask?

         Friend 1: Oh good – I had a bit of a mix-up this year and seem to have sent out somewhat mismatching cards to people.

           Uncle: (Chuckles) Oh, that’s fine: you know, it actually matches the card you sent me last year.

           Friend 1: …What?

           Uncle: Yeah, I have everything out while I’m packing up the place, and I’d kept the cards I got last year, and you’d sent me the same nice card then, I love it!

           Friend 1: …WHAT?!

THE NEXT DAY

            Friend 3: (On the phone) Hi, what’s up?

            Friend 1: (On the phone) I’ll be blunt: the card you got from me this year, is it the same as the one I sent you last year, or for a holiday you don’t actually celebrate?

          Friend 3: Oh, heh-heh, you know, I thought it looked familiar.... (Sound of rustling) Yes, I remember that clownish snowball.  Guess you figured it fit my personality, huh?

            Friend 1: [Loudly grinds teeth]

THE NEXT DAY

           Friend 4: (To Friend 1, passing on the street) Hi!  I got your card – Happy Kwanzaa to you, too!  I never celebrated it before, but this made me go out and learn more about it, thanks! 

            Friend 1: Glad to help.

THE NEXT DAY

            Friend 5: (On the phone) Hi!  I got your card – Merry Christmas to you, too!

            Friend 1: Thanks.  I take it this means you didn’t get the Hanukkah card I thought I sent you.

            Friend 5: No, but I figured it was love all, celebrate all!

           Friend 1: That’s it: next year, I’m buying 1,000 copies of the same “Happy Holidays” card and that’s all I’ll send forever and ever.

           Friend 5: We’ll take that, too.  And if you send it by e-mail, you’ll save on postage!

           Friend 1: Where’s the joy and goodwill and holiness of the season in that?!

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.