Monday, December 6, 2010

Merry Christmas My Ass 12/6/2010

Today is December 6th. I was hoping to go much deeper into December before getting hit by my first “Merry Christmas” blitzkrieg. But I took one across the bow early this morning from the volunteer that serves coffee and pastries at the VA Hospital in Charleston. I can forgive her because some of the people that she serves today won’t be around at Christmas.

Throughout the day, I heard several other such greetings in the periphery but as they were not directed at me, the rules of engagement are that I did not have to respond or acknowledge. I find that the key is to keep moving in a serpentine manner and pretend to be otherwise engaged.

That strategy served me well until I made the tactical error of visiting Walmart. At the entrance was the dreaded Salvation Army Bell Ringer. I did not expect an encounter this early in the campaign and was not prepared. I tried unsuccessfully to avoid eye contact, much like with a rabid dog. I thought I had gotten safely out of range, but those people are trained to project their “Merry Christmas” greetings so that even with the cover of several other shoppers, I knew it was directed at me. I felt the laser sight of her eyes on my back. It was like a Scrooge seeking missile. Though I did not turn around, she knew that I knew that I was hit. She confirmed the kill by ringing that infernal bell.

As Skooter and I were entering the elevator at my residence, I could not get the door closed before one of my neighbors entered. Believe me; I tried as desperately as if Jason Voorhees was pursuing me. I knew from past Yule-tide attacks that she was a loose-cannon “Merry Christmasser,” who has been known to snipe as early as Black Friday. I was trapped in the elevator like a fart victim. She began the conversation with a benign weather comment. Skooter apparently did not receive my telepathic command to attack. It is my understanding that the business end of a 40 pound Beagle attached to one’s leg will temporarily curb Christmas spirit. But Skooter, selfish bastard that he is, failed me miserably, as he tried to charm her out of a treat. Eye contact was inevitable.

I had to exit first, so I considered a preemptive strike with either a “Have a Nice Day” or a i-jung chagi to her knees. Since she lives in the same building, and I see her nearly daily, perhaps she would realize how ridiculous it was to “Merry Christmas” me with 18 shopping days left. But she not only “Merry Christmassed” me, but there was collateral damage: “You and Skooter have a wonderful Christmas.” Oh no she didn't. Though traumatized, I managed to drag Skooter to the safety of our home. If I can teach Skooter to use the toilet, I may not venture out again until 2011.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well, I think I already knew how you felt about this. I certainly do the no eye contact thing with the bell ringers. I never have cash anymore anyway so nothing to put in there. Carson however makes full eye contact and is all in to giving. A couple of years ago he thought it was a bucket to TAKE money from though. At least he passifies them so I don't have to, unless he begins a whole conversation with them and then that totally sucks. Love ya and Merry Christmas. lol Couldn't resist. Carly

orionsbow said...

I do so admire you for sticking to your guns and not retiring into comfortable submission as I have done for lo these many years now. I used to be a world class scrooge who could very nearly "black coal and soot" the very smiles off the fac...es of random revelers at will. I only bought gifts for the closest of family and then never before Christmas Eve and usually as an after thought while standing in line at the convenience store. Lighting up the house was simply an additional security measure and a fresh tree's only function was to mask the smell of the cheap booze I used in the eggnog. Over the years I have become less and less resistant to the premature mirth and merriment and have lately found myself actually humming carols softly as I stroll through the endless aisles of highly combustible Chinese made light strings. Would that my age had not robbed me of my brash, antagonistic loathing of the overt commercialism that this season brings. Given that it has, the only logical thing to do is grin and bear it. Merry Christmas, Rick, and Happy New Year! I called the Ferrari dealership in Atlanta, you can pick my 430 up anytime after the 15th.

Go Figure said...

Whale: You need some snow! I happen to have a couple of feet of it in my front yard...so,...in the spirit of giving...e-mail me your address and I will send you as much as I can pack into a box, with dry ice so that it arrives in perfect shape!

Go Figure said...

Whale: Just revisited to see if you were really gone...probably went on that cruise, to shoot pirates, that you sent me the information on...Anyway upon further review...I observed that the caption of your last post says "Merry Christmas My Ass". Well there you go. No wonder you are ba humbugging it...your ass...not that I was observing it closely...when you stopped by the office a while back, was not exactly something to celebrate. So, start celebrating Christmas...and not your ass. If you want I can e-mail you a picture of my ass...now that is something to celebrate...ha. Oh, and don't forget to send along your address...I still have plenty of snow. In fact, since I last commented I have decided that I will send everyone on my list a box of snow...I am sure everyone will enjoy it...

Go Figure said...

Whale: Still go snow here to send your way...Happy New Year!