If you read my last post about what was then the upcoming Dirty Santa party, you’ll know that I had never attended one before. I didn’t know what things to expect, but having my dreams crushed wasn’t one of them.
When it’s your turn, you either select an unopened gift from the table or steal someone else’s. Apparently I am the only one in the world who has never played this game. A game I now refer to as, “Evil Christmas Dream Crushing Game.”
Because I have a kind heart, I selected an unopened gift from the table (even though I really wanted the Winnie the Pooh costume).
My goodness was rewarded when I opened the package to reveal a beautiful red George Foreman Grill.
It was a vision. I could taste the bacon. Everyone could see how happy I was. Maybe expressing that happiness was my critical mistake.
There were some great gifts and several people were grabbing gifts from others, forcing those people to either select an unopened gift or steal one to replace theirs. It was mayhem, I tell you. Mayhem.
(Not really, but when your new George Foreman Grill is in danger, it just seems like it.)
The numbers were dwindling, the remaining unopened gifts were down to a few, and it appeared my new grill and I would make it home together.
(I thought we might first stop by the store and purchase all of the meat in the world.)
I’m thinking up recipes, planning dinners, wondering if it would work for Pop Tarts or warming my socks, reorganizing my kitchen in my mind to think of the perfect place to put him and… then it happened.
The new guy took my grill without thought or remorse. New guy.
Dejected, broken, knowing there was nothing in the room that could replace my George (I had already named him), I got up and scanned the room.
Because I have a kind heart, I didn’t take the only thing that could have made me feel better. Even though the current owner of the Pooh costume had ruthlessly taken it for her own, I could not claim her prize.
I moved my way to the table and selected a new gift.
Though the wine basket was awesome, I’m not a wine basket guy. I’m a sandwich various types of meat between two thermostatically controlled griddles and drain the fat into a convenient drip tray guy. And because I have a kind heart, I gave the wine basket to someone who loved it.
Hear that, new guy? Sure, you’ll eat well, but how will you sleep?
(Obviously, this entire post is a joke. The people here have the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen and I’ve made some wonderful friends. The other night was just another example of how great this place is. I wish everyone a very happy holidays and am continually grateful for the existence of Serendipity Park. Also, Stuart’s Christmas jokes were way better than mine.)