At least, that’s the impression I’m getting from the gifts I’ve received so far. See, we’re doing the five-day Secret Santa thing at work. It’s a big pain in the ass, but it’s hard to refuse to do it, because then you look like Grinch McScrooge. We’re supposed to give one or two el cheapo gifts per day to our li’l buddy, then reveal ourselves on Friday for kudos and admiration all around.
All well and good, except the gifts I’ve received have taken a sinister turn. Monday, I joyously opened my present, expecting to find maybe some candy, or a Christmas ornament…you know, some generic gift. Uh uh. It was a plastic poncho and a package of nylon rope. Rope. That was a WTF? moment if ever I saw one. Today I got a roll of film.
It scares me that I can already see where this twisted individual is going with this. I’ve already resigned myself to walking in on Friday and seeing a giant butcher knife sticking out of my office door, or maybe a scalpel in a fresh, shiny surgical tray. My question is, what’s it going to be tomorrow and Thursday? I’m betting on rubber hip waders, a hockey mask, and/or surgical gloves.
I think I may call in sick tomorrow. And the next day.
Have you considered that maybe he’s after some snapshots of you engaged in poncho-clad autoerotic asphyxiation? Have you considered getting a restraining order?
Actually, that sounds really cool! …I would love to get such a twisted santa. Luckily, where I work doesn’t seem to do the gift thing at all.
…my brother’s place of work does. He’s never been known for his common sense, but this one’s a topper. They do secret santas. He got the boss. Of the whole company. His gift? gummi boobs. sigh
Actually, the funny thing is, that was the first thing I checked. The film is still safely sealed in the box.
Ready for this? I got a package of moist towelettes. Yeah. Perfect for cleaning up those random blood spatters. I’m a little scared now, if I wasn’t before.
Why not look at the possible bright side? That hot young secretary sent you a roll of film of her in some explicit positions, sent you some rope so you could have some fun. The towelettes are to clean up the chocolate syrup and whipped cream you'll get tomorrow that the poncho protects your bed from.
A few years ago, a co-worker of mine gave really odd stuff like that to her secret santa (pine cones, moist towlettes, a rock, a ketchup package, etc.). A the end of it, when it was time to get the “big” gift, he sent her a note saying she needed to bring all the little items and could trade them in for a different one. The santee had thrown most of them away though!!! He still gave her the “big” gift (which, btw, was well over the spending supposed spending limit).
Yeah, I bet it’s all a big set-up or a joke of some sort. Perhaps a protest against the repressive Secret Santa regime? Too funny. (In case it’s not a joke…well, it was nice knowing ya!)
Reminds me of Hebrew school, where we had a grab-bag every year. (I always got pick-up-sticks.) One year, this kid’s grab-bag gift was…a can of tuna-fish. It was the funniest thing, ever.
You bring a few vagrants back to your house, drug them, dress them up like the characters from Lidsville, tie them up, strangle them to death with their own intestines, dissolve their remains in acid, and keep their left eye as souvenirs in and old peanut butter jar, and suddenly people start accusing you of being a serial killer. Damn shame, really.
I happen upon a nubile, nude young lady covered in chocolate…
Mmmmmmmm…private moment.
OK. Um, I happen upon…lessee…ummm…I know! I happen upon a ledge that can only be accessed by rope, but which offers a beautiful view (and I happen to have my camera, or at least the film). Also, I’ll be sanding near a splashy waterfall, and ummm…uh…I’m…ummm…eating hot wings! Yeah. Good thing I have the wetnaps!
