This year I had the wonderful opportunity of being invited to a very elite Christmas party. Naturally, I feigned interest and was one of the first to arrive. It was the best of the best, the hottest of the hottest, and then there was me. I showed up in this outfit that can only be described with my mother’s words from a few weeks back, when I was going to an entirely different social function, “you look like you are dressed to go to a garage sale.” I was a mess in a red and green blur. That evening I had the late shift at work, much like tonight, and had to cover the front desk and phone until seven. I brought my clothes and make up with me so that I could get myself garage sale appropriate and head straight over to participate in the festivus. I can only imagine what me getting ready looked like, that had to be a sight for the pilots in training, fed ex men, and instructors as they came and went, all they saw was me and the cloud of hairspray, glitter and flashes of red and green. Needless to say, I was as ready as I would ever be, and like a kick to the crotch, I realized at five minutes to freedom and hot apple cider, that I forgot to purchase my white elephant gift for the exchange at the party, like I had planned to do during my lunch break. Showing up to a Christmas party that includes a white elephant gift exchange without a gift is like a hooker walking into church to drum up business, it is awkward, rarely successful, and people feel bad for you. I frantically looked around the office for a gift to give.
I work at a really neat company, we have huge flight simulators that pilots come from all over the world to train on…you'd think there would be something unique I could give, that no one would miss. A key chain, a t-shirt, a box of paperclips or maybe a collection/assortment of all three, but as I searched I could find nothing that garnered the respect and essence of the white elephant. I was racking my brain, pacing in between the desks and offices, and then it hit me, like a fat lady in line for Twilight tickets, I remembered my coworker had two figurines on her desk. She is the nicest of all of the people at the company and I proceeded to do a cost/benefit analysis. I thought, “Well, how mad could she really get? What if she got these from a relative who is now deceased? Does she even remember that she owns them? How important are they to her, I mean it’s not like she has them on display at home. Could I get them back here if I took them? What is the likelihood of a person at the party fighting over these tacky objects? Am I EVER going to get married, so that I can quit basing my entire life around these parties?” These tapes played over and over in my head and in a spilt second I knew I would be willing to do whatever was necessary to get them back and would, therefore, take them…I knew all I had to do was go up to the poor girl or guy who ended up with them and tell them my sad tale of how I took them and had to return them to my unknowing coworker by Monday or I would be risking personal damnation. They would either take pity on me and my existence and return them or return them to me for ten bucks. So it was settled and my plan went into action. I quickly sprinted back and forth looking for some sort of wrapping paper, found an old Jason’s Deli bag, turned it inside out and got a roll of scotch tape. I took the tape off the dispenser and when I felt the two tiki people were secured in the brown paper sack, I began to roll the tape around and around, thinking, ‘if they don’t get a kick out of the gift at least the packaging is fun.' But really we all know that people hate the ones that are hard to open, I had a slight hope people would avoid it out of frustration. I rolled the tape around it about seventy five times and took a ribbon off the Christmas tree in our lobby and was out the door.
I work at a really neat company, we have huge flight simulators that pilots come from all over the world to train on…you'd think there would be something unique I could give, that no one would miss. A key chain, a t-shirt, a box of paperclips or maybe a collection/assortment of all three, but as I searched I could find nothing that garnered the respect and essence of the white elephant. I was racking my brain, pacing in between the desks and offices, and then it hit me, like a fat lady in line for Twilight tickets, I remembered my coworker had two figurines on her desk. She is the nicest of all of the people at the company and I proceeded to do a cost/benefit analysis. I thought, “Well, how mad could she really get? What if she got these from a relative who is now deceased? Does she even remember that she owns them? How important are they to her, I mean it’s not like she has them on display at home. Could I get them back here if I took them? What is the likelihood of a person at the party fighting over these tacky objects? Am I EVER going to get married, so that I can quit basing my entire life around these parties?” These tapes played over and over in my head and in a spilt second I knew I would be willing to do whatever was necessary to get them back and would, therefore, take them…I knew all I had to do was go up to the poor girl or guy who ended up with them and tell them my sad tale of how I took them and had to return them to my unknowing coworker by Monday or I would be risking personal damnation. They would either take pity on me and my existence and return them or return them to me for ten bucks. So it was settled and my plan went into action. I quickly sprinted back and forth looking for some sort of wrapping paper, found an old Jason’s Deli bag, turned it inside out and got a roll of scotch tape. I took the tape off the dispenser and when I felt the two tiki people were secured in the brown paper sack, I began to roll the tape around and around, thinking, ‘if they don’t get a kick out of the gift at least the packaging is fun.' But really we all know that people hate the ones that are hard to open, I had a slight hope people would avoid it out of frustration. I rolled the tape around it about seventy five times and took a ribbon off the Christmas tree in our lobby and was out the door.
For most of the drive over I figured I would tell one of my good friends in attendance to steal the gift if someone before them chose it, even though I tried to make it so ugly no one would touch it. I confessed my sins to two of the girls there and asked that they please save me and do what they had to to get those back to me. As the culmination of the evening's festivities was upon us in the form of the white elephant, those present with presents gathered around in a circle, and the game began. I broke into a slight sweat each time a hand went to the scotch taped bundle. It came to be my turn and I took a gift other than my own as a diversion, hoping to not draw attention to the kidnapped items and knowing myself enough that I would immediately give it away. Thinking or hoping that first gift would end up being something great, and it would be stolen and have the opportunity to choose my gift as a last resort. I had it all planned out, after opening the brown bag special, I would show phony surprise, and then transition into bogus disappointment at the fact that I ended up with way less cool than what I had led the group to believe I had brought. It was perfect, like an 18 year old at a mid-singles dance, I was in! Then I opened the first package in my ruse. The contents of this unfamiliar package, it turned out to be a Viking hat and a metal for finishing a warrior 5K race. 'Fan-Freaking-Tastic,' I thought, who is going to want this thing!? So I knew no one would steal my new hat from me and my friend was my only hope, in the style of Obie Wahn Kanobie, she would choose and open my gift and shake her head at me disapprovingly until the game was over.
Then, suddenly, a boy I didn’t know was up to take his turn, he grabbed the gift wrapped in trash and stolen office goods, commented about the strange wrap job, to which I nonchalantly said under my breath, “Some people like the smell of scotch tape.”and to my horror, he opened it. At first he was confused, and then he gave into his luck, or lack thereof and said in a loud voice, “ I am going to glue these to my dashboard!!” That was it, I looked at my friend, who was a few turns away from being able to take it from him, and I had to come clean, lest her mean spirited gesture break his heart. I needed him to know there were other more suitable toys out there, with bobble heads and ukeleles that he could have for his dashboard family he was planning for in the near future. I got on my feet and to the room of around filled with about twenty people, I spilled my guts. Yes, I had stolen those little Hawaiian people, yes, from a co worker’s desk, and no, she had no idea. Thankfully the room roared with laughter, and even at this point weeks after, I still haven’t been able to determine if they were laughing with me or at me. My friend took one for the team that day and reclaimed what was rightfully my stolen property! The best part was there were no hard feelings, just good, clean fun. Honestly, what 30 year old man wants to glue a hula lady whose hips don’t swivle to his dash? I think my friend and I did his future or current girlfriend a favor, to be honest.
To make a long story short, the Hawaiians were back on the desk of the lady who sits behind me on Monday morning, my co-worker would have never known it if she hadn’t caught me whisper singing a goodbye song to them. We had been through so much already, those small people and me. Again, I was forced to spill my guts, and just like those twenty other people, we had a good laugh. The best part is she said she could have cared less…so dashboard man, wherever you are, I am sorry. L And so, I am reminded of the spirit of the season, the power of laughter, and the unconquerable human determination to participate in games at parties.
Then, suddenly, a boy I didn’t know was up to take his turn, he grabbed the gift wrapped in trash and stolen office goods, commented about the strange wrap job, to which I nonchalantly said under my breath, “Some people like the smell of scotch tape.”and to my horror, he opened it. At first he was confused, and then he gave into his luck, or lack thereof and said in a loud voice, “ I am going to glue these to my dashboard!!” That was it, I looked at my friend, who was a few turns away from being able to take it from him, and I had to come clean, lest her mean spirited gesture break his heart. I needed him to know there were other more suitable toys out there, with bobble heads and ukeleles that he could have for his dashboard family he was planning for in the near future. I got on my feet and to the room of around filled with about twenty people, I spilled my guts. Yes, I had stolen those little Hawaiian people, yes, from a co worker’s desk, and no, she had no idea. Thankfully the room roared with laughter, and even at this point weeks after, I still haven’t been able to determine if they were laughing with me or at me. My friend took one for the team that day and reclaimed what was rightfully my stolen property! The best part was there were no hard feelings, just good, clean fun. Honestly, what 30 year old man wants to glue a hula lady whose hips don’t swivle to his dash? I think my friend and I did his future or current girlfriend a favor, to be honest.
To make a long story short, the Hawaiians were back on the desk of the lady who sits behind me on Monday morning, my co-worker would have never known it if she hadn’t caught me whisper singing a goodbye song to them. We had been through so much already, those small people and me. Again, I was forced to spill my guts, and just like those twenty other people, we had a good laugh. The best part is she said she could have cared less…so dashboard man, wherever you are, I am sorry. L And so, I am reminded of the spirit of the season, the power of laughter, and the unconquerable human determination to participate in games at parties.
Merry Christmas to all of you, I wish for everyone all the best things in this life and a renewed feeling of hope for yourselves, others and the world this coming new year.
