That Darned Secret Santa Thing!

Somehow, millions of American office workers participate in Secret Santa gifting every year. Oh, how heartwarming it is to buy presents for random strangers!

Why am I expected to have a Secret Santa partner every year? If I want to give someone something, then I'll give it to 'em!

Take Secret Santa, for example. That's the best ever. And I say that with all crossable appendages intertwined, of course.

I Gave at the Office!

While I do love Christmas and the Christmas spirit, at least more than Scrooge did before those meddlesome ghosts showed up, I recognize modern-day Christmas for what it is: a celebration for children. I'm not a child, folks; I haven't been for a while, and the nest happens to be empty, thank you very much.

I'd prefer to experience the holiday my own way, maybe even as it was originally intended: with fellowship and, say, tidings of comfort and joy. But some people... well, they have to thrust their own ideas of what the holidays mean on you, don't they? I believe I've had a word or two to say about this before.

Which brings us, once again, to the flaming joyousness of the Secret Santa tradition, second only to the fiendishly ingrown toenail in my list of favorites. Why sure, I'd love to give someone a cheesy Christmas gift at the office Christmas party! Why not? At least I won't be working for a while!

Stick 'Em Up!

Some offices apparently have a voluntary Secret Santa thing going, but I've never experienced one. (Just another in a long line of reasons Your Humble Writer now has that best and worst of all possible bosses: me.) Usually your name gets tossed into the random Christmas presents hat come what may.

Even if not, there's that not-so-subtle social pressure to participate anyhow. Well, okay. How about a nice jar of a finely aged Limburger, or perhaps a handy bottle of urine-based buck lure? Oh, you're not a deer hunter? So very sorry. It'll wash out. Eventually.

Golly, now you probably won't let me participate next year! Excuse me while I go to my desk to cry... with joy.

So, Anyway.

One good thing about your Secret Santa is that sometimes, it's set up so you don't know who to blame... er, thank. That's the beauty of it, for the giver. For every set of jaunty Christmas mugs (still in use 15 years later, I might add) or bottle of cologne, there's something that I wouldn't ever use or can't figure out.

Like that funky wooden...thing, or the bundle containing a plastic drop cloth and a big bottle of vegetable oil. I still can't fathom that particular Secret Santa gift... I hope.



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