Do not buy me a gift. Ever. Please.
I don’t do gifts well. Perhaps this means that something deep in my psyche is irreparably warped. But it is what it is.
Just the thought of receiving a gift gives me a headache. I will either have to take care of it, pay taxes on it, or feel guilty – first while it sits in a drawer, unused and collecting dust, and then later when I give it to Goodwill or toss it unceremoniously into the trash.
In other words, you’re wasting your money and my time.
Call me ungrateful or whatever the modern term for that sentiment might be. But don’t waste your energy on one as unappreciative as I am.
Courtesy demands that I thank you profusely for your gift, even as I’m thinking about how to get rid of it. I learned in childhood that polite society requires that we be good liars.
I am not a materialistic person. I am not impressed by things. If there is something that I want enough, I’ll go buy it. Most of the time, I don’t bother. Let’s face it, everything is junk these days, usually made in China.
Even your best intentions will blow up in my face. So stay away with your boxes, bows, ribbons and gift cards.
As a case in point, consider the gifts that my parents bestowed upon me for Hanukkah and for my birthday.
Hanukkah: My mother sent me a nice Hanukkah card with a $50 gift card to Barnes & Noble tucked inside. This seems innocent enough, generous even, and certainly thoughtful of my bibliophile tendencies. Well… Let’s examine the effects of the law of unintended consequences, shall we?
First, both the envelope and the inside of the card was addressed to me only, not to my wife (who, I might add, enjoys books as well). More than likely, Mom did this because my wife is not Jewish and does not celebrate Hanukkah. (Psst… I don’t celebrate any December holiday, Mom.) But did my mother send my wife a Christmas card? Nope. Has she ever said “merry Christmas” to my wife in our 21 years of marriage? Nope. It’s not like Mom has never sent Christmas cards to her Christian friends back east. As for us, we don’t send any variety of holiday cards to anyone. Perhaps we should try sending Mom a Hanukkah card and see if she sends anything back? I don’t know. Let’s just say that the whole thing justifiably pissed off my wife royally. I deeply wish she hadn’t sent me any kind of gift.
Oh, wait, that’s not all. When I finally got around to visiting a Barnes & Noble this month (we don’t have one in our immediate area and had to drive out of town), I found that the books that interest me most (economics and American history) cost twice what I could buy them for on Amazon! I purchased one book and some desserts from the café, and the card is nearly depleted. What a waste.
Please, Mom, no gifts. Signed, your ungrateful brat of a son.
So, let’s talk about my birthday. Mom bought me a shirt-and-tie pre-packaged combo at a big box store. Wrong size! “You can’t win for losing,” said Mom deflatedly when I broke the news to her. Fine, no big deal. We tried to exchange the shirt for something in the right size.
First, we learned that the store didn’t have any shirt in stock in my size. No worries, we’ll just buy a new wallet and tie instead. No dice! The store will not accept any returns or exchanges without the original receipt. And even if we had said receipt, a friendly employee informed us, they wouldn’t take the shirt back because Mom had removed the UPC from the packaging. Now I have the unenviable task of asking Mom what she would like us to do with the shirt. Should we give it back to her? Donate it? Truly a lose-lose situation.
Is this a good time to mention an acquaintance’s restaurant gift card that has been gathering dust for months? Or the cute game that I think is languishing in a drawer somewhere in this house?
Listen up, everyone. No. Gifts. Please! This means you, well-intentioned relatives and friends!
Save your money and save our time and energy. Everyone wins!