Day Eleven

Note: This entry is not meant to be offensive. I apologize in advance to Christian readers. I do not hate Christians in any way. I do however hate Christmas, Christmas cards, Christmas lights, Christmas music, Christmas stories and Christmas cookies. Barring a Christmas Miracle I  will continue to hate it for as long as I live, except in South America where there’s a lot less Christmas trees and a lot more boogie.

The couple came in looking to make a Christmas card. I sat at a kiosk to help them. It was late and they were one of two groups in the store, so I was stuck with them. “Hon, Do you like this one?” asked the wife.

“Sure” the husband replied.

“What do you think…uuhhhh “ she finally found my nametag and read it.

“I dunno, I never celebrated Christmas.”

“Ohh I’m sorry”, the wife looked at me with pity.

“Yeah” I said. I wanted these people to know how much I hated making them Christmas cards. I wanted to tell them about how much Christmas envy I had as a child, constantly listening to Christmas music in December, having to hand my Teachers Christmas gifts from my parents, and on Christmas Day having to watch every Christmas special episode. Chanukah seemed like a cheap substitute. We eventually made it a tradition to turn to the Yule Log channel.

I wanted to tell her all these things and I could not. That would not be quality customer service.

She found the card she wanted on the kiosk

“What do you think?” she asked again about the size of the picture of her smiling children. I tried not to look too hard at the screen.

“Looks great,” I said, “how about the message. What would you like to write?” I wanted to scream “Fuck Christmas!” in these people’s faces.

“Good Man!” she said to me because she’s from New Zealand.  “Hon, what do you think, Merry Christmas from Jan, Jake, Jim, John and Joe?” She typed it out.

“No, I think it should be with a Happy New Year”, said her husband. She erased it and typed it again with “Happy New Year”.

“Now its too long”, she erased it again and retyped it. I switched the font for her.

“Do you like black?” she asked her husband.

“No, I like red.”

“But don’t you have Chanukah?” he asked.

“It’s not the same.” I admitted.

“I like black”. He was losing most of the option war. I was trying very hard to be somewhere else. In my mind I felt chased them out the door and beat my chest like a Gorilla.

“How many should we get?” she asked.

“There’s a price break at fifty” I said, “You save ten cents”.

“Good Man!” She was cheering me on again.

“Just enter in your personal information here.” I turned away from the screen. “And I'll meet you at the counter when you’re done.”

I rang them up and attempted not to hate them. When I got them the envelopes early so they could make sure and get their Christmas cards there on time for all the other lucky boys and girls out there, the wife told me “Good Man!” and I hated them all over again.