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| Sunday, 19 December 2004 |
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A Christmas Tale It was Christmas Eve. The street corners were burdened with carollers singing and Santa's ringing bells for charity. The pubs were full with workers celebrating the holiday season. The whole world seemed full of good cheer. Seemed, I said. For I knew this was a falsehood, a lie. I knew this because I was Christmas shopping.
The problem with shopping Christmas Eve is that it's obvious. You buy the crappiest Playstation game, the ugliest ties, the fake Barbies and Tonka trucks. You get the most awful wrapping paper and have to use string to tie it because all the shops are out of tape and ribbon. So, Christmas Eve arrives and I realise I am once again stuck. And, of course, everything goes well. Three buses go right past my stop, completely full. When one does stop, I end up jammed between a guy who obviously ate a whole plate of garlic for dinner the night before and the door, with the handle pushing into my stomach. Then, I start to peruse the stores, looking for something, anything half way decent. I do all the biggies- they are bled dry. So, I start looking at smaller stores. I walk around the corner and spy a small gift store. The front is tiny, barely a door and a window. The window is all frosted over. "The True Meaning of Christmas" is its name. It sounds totally kitsch, but I am desperate. I push open the door. The shop is in darkness. I step back to look at the door, the sign clearly says open but there are no lights. Cursing the stupidity of shop owners, I step back out onto the street. I don't notice the man until I bump into him. "Oh, sorry!" "That's okay." He winks and walks on, as do I. Finally, in a store, I find an absolutely gorgeous pair of earings, perfect for Jen. I open my handbag to purchase them and discover the ugly truth. No purse. It was gone. Panic is a mild term to describe how I felt. I had no presents, no money to get any presents, no way to get home. I retrace my steps, but cannot find it anywhere. I find myself in the darkened yet apparently open shop. I push open the door. I can't see a thing, so I get down on my hands and knees to feel. I move too far away from the door and it closes behind me. In the sudden darkness, my panic threatens to engulf me but I remain calm enough to stand and grab the handle of the door. It won't open. So now, I am penniless and locked in a shop on Christmas Eve. I leant against the door, thought for a while, then decided the shop must have a back door. Putting my hands out in front of me, I slowly walk forward, shuffling my feet. Presently, I hit a wall. I move along it until I find a door. I push it open and walk into another equally dark room. I use the same method to find another door, and push it open. I stumble through it and for a moment, feel great joy at being out. Then I look around me. I am in an alley way, full of dumpsters and rubbish and it's snowing! It hadn't been snowing out on the street but here there was a good dumping. I shivered and pulled my jacket around me. I make my way down the alley and out onto the street beyond. Here, nothing has changed, excepting it is also snowing. How strange, I thought, then made my way to the nearest public phone. Scrambling through my purse, I found change to make a call. There was no answer at my friend Von's house, nor at Jen's, nor at Peter's either. It left me with only one real option. I was going to have to call Mum. "Hi, Mum, it's me, look, I've had my purse stolen and I'm stuck in town, can you help me?" "I'm sorry, who is this?" "Mum, it's me, Liz!" "I don't know anyone called Liz." "Mum, stop funning me." "Young lady, stop calling me Mum." I looked around me with concern. "Is this 9876 2365?" "Yes." "And is this Maureen Williams?" "Yes, it is." "And you don't have a daughter Elizabeth?" "I have a daughter Jennifer and a son, Michael. Who are you?" "I- I am-" I hung up. I didn't know what to say. I was in a world where it was snowing when it hadn't been, and my mother did not know who I was. I stumbled and sat on a seat, mindless of the snow that was wetting me. Someone stopped in front of me. I looked up into the face of a man. "Hello, Liz." He said with a smile. I frowned. "Do I know you?" "No, you don't." "Then how do you know me?" He smiled. "Because I do." "Oh, God." I moaned, sinking my head into my hands. I wasn't in the mood for riddles. "I've come to take you to him." I looked up. "Who?" "You'll see." He bade me rise and follow and with nothing else to do, I did it. He took me down the street and around the corner into a big building with the sign, XMAS Inc. We went up the elevator to the top floor. When the lift doors opened, he told me to step out first. I did, then the doors closed behind me. I banged on them futilely for some time, then turned around. The floor was completely bare. There was nothing between me and the wall to floor windows that completely surrounded the room. I walked over, then reeled back in shock for I seemed to be high enough up to see the world. "Nice view, ain't it?" I turned to see a fat man coming towards me, a man I instantly recognised. "Santa?" "Liz." "Why am I here?" "You know." I shook my head, then had to nod. "My slack present buying habits." "I had to save your family from another round of thoughtless gifts. This is yours, by the way." He tossed something to me, which I caught. It was my wallet. "Do you know how long it takes your mother to plan your Christmas presents?" I shook my head. "She starts Boxing Day. She listens, she plans, she shops, until she find the perfect present for everyone. She always buys wonderful presents, doesn't she?" I nodded. "She devotes herself to giving you exactly what you want and need. Now, last year she gave you the leather desk set and attache case you needed to impress your clients and you gave her..." He consulted a list. "A bottle of perfume that she hates. The year before, she gave you the year long gym membership you wanted to get in shape for your 10 year High School reunion and you gave her a blouse that was two sizes too big for her. The year before that, she gave you an all expenses paid week at a Health Spa to help you recover your fiancee's departure and you gave her the same perfume. Do you see a pattern here?" "Look, I know I do a bad job of it, but I'm so busy and I can't leave the office-" "That's what we invented the Internet for." Santa cut in. "Now, this year I'm giving you your presents for your family and when you see the looks on their faces when they open them, just think about how they normally look and how much better you would feel if you knew it was your thoughtfulness causing that happiness." I was in my lounge room. If it weren't for the wet patch on the bottom of my coat and the pile of beautifully wrapped gifts in the corner, I would have thought I was dreaming. Santa was right. The look of sheer joy on their faces was much preferable to the polite smiles I normally received and as good as it felt, I realised it would feel much better if I had thought of them myself. So, I've already set up a database on my computer. I've already filled it with the likes and dislikes of everyone. I've given myself an hour every week to update it. Next year, it's all going to be really different. I promise. - By Nicole Murphy |
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| Politics | Produced by Lake House |
Yes, I know what you are thinking. I should have had my shopping
completed long ago. My mother makes a point of ringing me mid November to
inform me that she has finished and I really should get a wriggle on, I
don't want to leave it til the last minute like I did last year, or the
year before that, or the year before that. Of course, I always tell her I
won't, that this year I will be organised. And I always wake Christmas
Eve, panicking.
