An unexpected gift from a secret Santa arrived. Gary smiled as he noticed the return address mailing label.
There was no name but he recognized the street.
His mind flashed back to an early December day just before he retired.
The first e-mail Gary read on December second wasn’t exactly business related – it wasn’t even spam.
“Is everyone up for Secret Santa?” the subject line screamed. It was originated by Nicole, the millennial administrative
assistant who enjoyed inflicting her carefree yet burdened lifestyle on co-workers.
“Let’s get with the spirit of the season” she began. That was Nicole’s roundabout way of insinuating boomers (like Gary)
didn’t know how to have fun.
He continued reading. “We’ve made it easy for everyone to participate,” it continued. “Log on to Elfster .com, and type
the name of our company. When you see your name, click, “Yes” beside the Santa icon, or “not for me” beside the
Scrooge icon.
The suggestion was enough for Gary to succumb to peer- pressure. This was to be his last year. Retirement was
attempting to rope him in like a cowhand after a wayward steer. He didn’t want to appear as the grumpy old man of the office.
No sooner had Gary clicked beside Santa, an animated group of over-zealous elves commandeered the screen.
“Congratulations!” their squeaky voices exclaimed. “You have been chosen to be the bearer of gifts to…NICOLE!”
“Good grief!” was the first thing out of Gary’s mouth.
Gary had neglected to read the entire e-mail from Nicole. And not reading entire e-mails had become a problem for him
the closer he got to his last day.
Tony (a bossy department head in accounting) regularly mentioned to Gary’s superior that Gary wasn’t responding to his
request in a timely manner.
“You have to read the whole thing” Gary’s manager told him.
Gary shook his head. “I’m too old for this. His e-mails never have a subject line describing the purpose of the e-mails. He
uses acronyms only he understands. And his e-mail chains are so long I get carpal tunnel just from scrolling to the
bottom.”
Gary should have bothered to read all of the Secret Santa instructions. It detailed how Elfster would choose at random a
subject of his gift giving. And to make things even simpler, it had a “wish list” for them to fill out – only he and the gift
recipient had access to.
“If this hasn’t tarnished the spirit of gift giving then I don’t know what would.” He said to no one in particular. It didn’t
matter. All the millennial and gen-z workers in cubicles surrounding him had their ears stuffed with buds as they listed to
podcasts by their favourite influencers or music Gary was happy not to overhear.
The Elfster site also prompted Gary to fill out his own wish list.
“This is ludicrous – why don’t I just save them the trouble and buy my own gift?”
A pixie-like figure topped by a Santa Claus cap popped up over the partition at Gary’s workspace.
“Are you doing secret Santa?” the girl grinned.
“Good morning Nicole.” He smiled in response.
“You got my e-mail didn’t you?” she asked. “It ended up in some people’s junk file. I can’t understand why.”
“Neither can I” he deadpanned in returned. She missed his sarcasm.
“I know it’s kind of last minute but we needed something to get this stuffy old place in the spirit of the season.”
Gary nodded only because he remembered how the season was celebrated when he started with the company.
“Historically we used to do something special here at Christmas. A bunch of us used the go to the homeless shelter
downtown. We’d help out making meals, sing Christmas carols, and we even had some useful gifts like sleeping bags
and winter boots for the residents. The company donated our time and It didn’t cost us much but it made the residents
feel like millionaires.”
Nicole nodded as if she understood. “How sweet!” she commented. Then she said, “I know how forgetful you can be so
I’ll send you a reminder about the secret Santa deadline.”
“Thanks.” He said unconvincingly.
Nicole was right about one thing – he was likely to let this whole event slip his mind. He went back to the Elfster site and
looked up her ‘wish list.’
There it was: “Gothic fantasy fiction novels”, “Starbucks gift cards”, “Yocan Zen Vape Pen”.
Gary shook his head. “I don’t even know where to start. The gift cards are a cop-out. And vaping? No.”
He remembered a novel his teacher read the class in grade eight. It featured a large white serpent on the cover. It
scared the hell out of him and most of the class. He struggled to recall the book’s title, but he took a page from his young
co-workers and did a Google search of the details he had.
On secret Santa day when the gifts were opened, Gary and Nicole were the last to open theirs.
Gary didn’t know what to expect – the box rattled as he tore open the paper, to reveal a blue and white box. His eyes
went wide – at first he mistook it for Viagra.
“Blue pills?” one of his contemporaries laughed.”Hey Gary…need help in raising the flag?”
The crowd mostly broke up, though most of the younger ones only cringed.
“It’s not that.” Gary quickly replied. He was relieved until he read the label on the bottle: NORDIC NATURALS ULTIATE
OMEGA – For optimal cognitive health and brain function.
“Wow. Somebody know you very well!” one of Gary’s least favourite people replied.
“Yes. Yes they do.” Gary answered. He tried to make eye contact with Nicole but she has already started into her gift
wrap.
She discarded the paper and started at the cover as if she’d forgotten how to read.
“The Lair of the White Worm.” One of the kids beside her read over Nicole’s shoulder. “What is it?”
Nicole was still speechless. “This is out of print. You can’t even find it on Amazon!” She stuttered.
She looked around the room. “Who had my name? I need to know. This is the best gift ever!”
She continued telling the story of how her fantasy fiction book club regarded this obscure tale as the holy grail of gothic
fantasy, written by the legendary Bram Stoker.
While Nicole was basking in disbelief, Gary was telling himself he didn’t need the brain enhancer – yet.
When he finally remembered the title of the book, he phoned the librarian of the public school he attended to inquire, if
by chance, they had a copy of the Lair of the White Worm.
She confirmed it was still on the shelf – and hadn’t been checked out in many years.
“And how much of a donation would it take for the school to part with it?” he asked.
For a nominal sum (which did not exceed the limit of the secret Santa threshold) Gary was able to acquire the book.
Looking at Nicole’s reaction he was very happy he’d decided to be a Secret Santa this year.
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