Let’s do one another a favor passing on the impulse.
Just now, for instance, I opened a box of chocolates whose presenter will remain nameless, that looked as if they came by way of Gaza, and that’s putting it politely.
The box itself was crushed on both ends and rather than, Fine Swiss Chocolates, said… ine iss colates, which made me wonder if it was some type of French bubble bath or inflatable undies you blew up.
They came in a second box with a scarf perfect for Barbie who they may have been shopping for.
And no, we can’t blame it on the mail since it was delivered in person. I, adhering to the old Connecticut custom of opening your gifts Christmas morning didn’t, while the party was in residence.
Was it my imagination, or were they relieved?
Could have been all that wine they drank. See, I’m not cheap…I didn’t break open foreign bottles that were sent by impersonal people purchased by the silo.
And the gloves I gave came with a gift receipt.
The other thing that looked recycled was a floral arrangement seeing fresher days. They too were dropped off as if they were thrown from the cab the donor rode in.
Always handy to have a doorman to interrogate, poor Felix having to retrieve them, the giver not even bothering getting out of the taxi.
Were we just a little inconvenienced?
This is what I suggest to…
Let go of those, shoulds, I musts…oh shits, what about hers.
The spirit of Christmas isn’t about obligation.
And while I’m at it, trade in those fucking expectations, and I’m speaking to all you doormen circling like sharks in a pool.
It’s a time of grace, given the opportunity to let those you care about know, how much they mean to you…
This gun to your head giving is not the way to go, and neither is…what a piece of crap, I think I’ll give it to Susannah.
Those chocolates went down the garbage chute right after the calla lilies were put to rest.
I know it’s the thought that counts, but sometimes it arrives in drag, a great way to describe REGIFTNG…
it being a total one.