Caustically Optimistic

Back in the Day BC

I’m terrible at Christmas because, in general, I suck at life.  I’m inept at picking out gifts, and worse at receiving them.  I’m incredibly materialistic but since the schism with my mother’s family I prefer to buy anything I have myself and not have to depend or ask another soul for anything. 

I did receive some incredible gifts – a generous soul found the font of all argyle snow hats for men and sent them to me – and did find a fleur-de-lis for Suburban Island that was a homerun.  Everything else fell flat.  I’m also terrible at the card business.  That went downhill for me when I decided to stop “sharing the peace” with people at church who don’t speak to me the other six days in the week.  This extended into Christmas cards when I stopped opening them from people I don’t talk to any other time of the year and I’ve just stopped sending them myself. 

I used to feel bad about being terrible at Christmas until Christmas Eve. 

I heard four Christmas Eve sermons all the same topic, all with the same points.  I smell a rat.  Two on the radio and two in church all had the same theme, main points, examples and historical references.  It was like President’s Day when the children recite the Gettysburg Address.

While I am sure you’re quick to jump to their defense and point out that there are only so many angles of the incarnation of Christ to explore I submit to you that it wasn’t that simple.  Each of the sermons or homilies discussed the social status of Hebrew shepherds in Back-in-the-Day BC.  I am pretty sure that this was an article somewhere in a magazine or periodical that is mainly read and considered by theologians and clerics.  I’m also pretty sure that they didn’t expect some zealot of a grinch to be that into Christmas Eve and catch them, but it happened.  

I know that everyone is busy during December, even pastors – especially Lutheran ones who bump their one day of accountability up to two – but I don’t get to have someone else test drive my customers so I think they could write their own sermon for this very auspicious occasion.   

So I get it, shepherds couldn’t keep the law perfectly or well at all and no one would have them testify in court because they were of questionable character.  Apparently now everyone in America will get it and perhaps further.  I didn’t go to church in the English speaking parts of Canada.  

Lesson learned: don't feel bad about being terrible at Christmas, you're not the only one.  

Adventures at Oxmoor Center

Yesterday I went to the mall with my sister to look for Christmas and birthday presents for people in our family.  Holiday shopping is never an enjoyable experience but one of the tests of our holiday season is that our mother is a December baby.  What do you get her that isn’t holiday themed so she still has and enjoys her birthday as a special event like those of us born during March or June? 

One of the places we stopped while at the mall was Swarovski.  We usually get my mother a gift from Swarovski for the Festival of Saint Nicolas (night of the fifth, morning of the sixth), her birthday, or the Mass of Christ (the 25^th).  We’re late in our game because normally we give any decorations or special clothing needed for the other holidays at the Festival of Saint Nicolas.  I should not have waited.  

While we were in Swarovski I was surprised that they had things out in boxes where you could touch them.  I made the faux pas of touching one of the boxes to see what it contained a little bit better.  I understand fully now that you shouldn’t touch anything in the store.  How did I learn this?  Chady, the dumpy sales clerk slapped my hand. 

I realize that I don’t look my age, like I make a tremendous amount of money, or like I would normally buy something from a place like Swarovski.  However, I make a lot of money selling automobiles to people – more than most of my coworkers – because I don’t prejudge people coming into the showroom.  I certainly would never slap someone’s hand away from a Phaeton.  I was pretty shocked that someone hit me, much less even touched me in a store. 

This wasn’t humiliating enough, Chady had more in her dumpy shop of horrors.  She said, “Feel free to look around because that isn’t expensive since you can’t afford anything.”  Game.  Set.  Match.  She is right, I probably can’t afford to spend money with a company that hires haughty salesclerks that would deign to physically assault someone in their store.  I was so shocked by those two behaviors that I followed Chaos Bean out of the store. 

Poor Chaos Bean, she was in a white-hot rage.  She didn’t enjoy the rest of the trip to the mall.  She didn’t enjoy the shoe stores or looking at scarves and she didn’t even enjoy people watching.  Chady (nearly) ruined the one night a week we all get to spend as a family.  When I had calmed down I called the manager on duty at the store and recounted the story.  She was equally as horrified and very apologetic.  Getting Mom a present from Swarovski is a part of December like those bell ringers outside the grocery or poorly conceived ads from Target. 

In general, I am tired of salesclerks who present themselves as better than the people they’re helping instead of representatives of their brands.  I’ve been a salesclerk and I knew then that I didn’t speak for the Chocolatier for whom I worked nor was I as rich and fantastic as those who could afford it.  I also knew that people like to be treated like they’re rich and fantastic when purchasing a luxury or extravagant item – like Belgian chocolates or Swarovski crystal. 

I do very little holiday shopping and I hope the rest of it isn’t as bad as this experience. 

 

I’m not saying “don’t buy from Swarovski,” I’m saying, “don’t by from Chady.”