We have a holiday snack table at work, where people can bring in food to share. Last week, someone brought in a little green reindeer as a decoration; it looked like it was covered in artificial turf or faux chia. The next day, someone else brought in a gyrating Santa figurine, dressed in a cowboy outfit. You can guess how long it took Santa and the green reindeer to make an intimate acquaintance. Alas, the green reindeer was gone when I went in to work last night. Apparently someone has no sense of humor. A sign appeared on the cowboy Santa last night: "Brokeback Santa misses Rudolf." Heh.
I made the mistake of going out on US 41 on Saturday to buy a Christmas present at a specialty bookstore. The traffic and parking situation was just insane. I finally made it to the store, looked around and found what I was looking for. I got up to the cash register with the book and cash. The cashier asked for my telephone number. "You don't need it," I told her, handing her the book and the money. I think she was a little nonplussed by the response, but hey, I don't need to be in any more databases than I probably already am. If I'd wanted them to have my phone number, I'd have paid by check. Chalk it up as a victory for privacy rights. Well, if we actually have any of them left, which is doubtful.
Less than a week until Christmas. My string of overtime-free December days is still intact. Let's keep our fingers crossed...
