They say it's the thought that counts when giving or receiving a gift. If this is true and that the amount of thought reflects upon the giver,then people fall into two categories. 1. Caring to a fault and 2. Doesn't give a rat's ass.
Although she meant well, My grandma Weaver was notorious for her bad gift selections. My grandmother would spend her Saturdays trolling yard sales and flea markets for gifts for her grandchildren only to show up on Saturday night a sack full of used clothing which often included underwear for my brother and myself. Proud of her latest garage sale chic treasures, she would hold up a worn out pair of boys Hanes and proclaim them "good as new once you bleach them". My mother would take the clothes with an appreciation for her thought but also a repulsion to it. We know what kind of person buys the underwear, my grandma. Who is actually selling this stuff? Did they run out of old coffee mugs and velvet paintings at their garage sale. At some point did the conversation go something like this: "We are almost out of stuff to sale for the yard sale, although little Johnny has just about outgrown his Fruit of the Looms, whadaya say we throw those in there just take make an extra 15 cents?"
At one childhood Christmas get-together I was given the game "Cooties" by my grandmother. Cooties is similar to Mr. Potato Head, if Mr Potato Head had an outbreak of lice. Upon receiving the gift I was appalled at the uselessness in such a game and my nine year old little ass proceeded to throw one outstanding little hissy fit. This type of behavior was not acceptable in my family and God knows I knew exactly what would be happening to be later, but apparently the gift was so abominable I felt it was worth it to kick up my heels and have a tantrum. I was quickly spanked, preached to and demanded to return to the living room to apologize to my grandmother who had "taken the time to get me such a nice gift" I apologized but I didn't mean one word of it. Even at 9 years old I knew a shitty gift when I saw one.
I personally don't give extravagant gifts but they most certainly come with a lot of thought. During a vacation with a boyfriend we camped in a tent in an old RV park outside of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Neither of us had a lot of money and were doing good just to get to go away for a couple of days, even if it was the middle of a tourist area known for their celebration of the American Hillbilly.
I wanted to surprise Jason with a bouquet of flowers when he awoke. I snuck out early and noticed that there was a cemetery next to the RV park. I casually crossed over the fence and proceeded to pick a fresh collection of Iris and Tulips to bring to my boyfriend. They were just growing along the fence begging to be picked! It's not like a opened a casket and pried them out of their cold hands. I don't know where Jason thought the flowers had come from, but thank God he never asked.
My time spent with another boyfriend brought two very special gifts: our first date and our last one.
I had told John that I loved salsa so much I could drink it straight out of a glass through a straw. On our first date he had invited me to his house for a special meal complete with homemade salsa sitting in a glass at my place setting with a straw in it and a note that read "for you". Before we get too teary eyed here lets jump ahead 3 months later to our last date. John had invited me to Joe's Crab Shack for dinner. A strange choice seeing as he knew how much I hate seafood. At the meal John announced that he was breaking up with me because he wasn't ready to be in a relationship, which is just a nice way of saying "I am just not feeling it dawg". Let me tell you I was happy to be wearing a plastic lobster bib, it helped repel both butter sauce and the tears that soon followed.
My friend Rob is a notorious re-gifter. I have an annual holday party and if you are lucky enough to swing an invite to this glamorous social occasion you are urged to bring a gift that will be exchanged with a fellow guest. When my gift was presented to me I noticed it was the package that Rob had brought with him. I excitedly opened the bag that was overflowing with a selection of scented candles and bath and body products, all of which I then realized I had given him at some point over the year. WHAT THE HELL MAN? Even if someone else had gotten the gift did he think I wouldn't have noticed? Now when I buy him a gift I just pick out something I want, cause Lord knows I will be getting that shit back on my birthday.
An ex-roommate I had who is still a good friend is a very distinct gift giver. Each year I came to expect something well thought out and very personal, even the cards!
Upon his return from a two week vacation he eagerly announced he had a gift for me. "I wonder what it could be" I thought. Local art from Cape Cod? A handcrafted gourmet item? A piece of clothing that detailed New England? I anxiously unwrapped his gift taking my time undoing the bow and placing each ribbon to the side. Carefully tearing down the walls of colorful wrapping paper until the item was finally revealed. There on the table sat a rather large bottle of personal lubricant. A gag gift? I smiled and looked at Tom who also smiled but with a look that said: "this is not a gag gift" OH MY GOD! Was this really happening? Is this what people thought of me, that a well lubricated sex act was now on the top of my gift expectation list.
Two years later Tom be quested me a pair of those underwear with the fake butt sewn into them. I don't think I really know what Tom thinks of me but I am pretty sure he thinks I don't have an ass, but I want to tap as many as I can get my hands on.
When I worked at Olive Garden we had an annual secret Santa Christmas gift drawing. The limit is always twenty dollars and the gift I brought one year was a pair of microfiber memory foam house slippers. I thought it might be a nice gift especially for a server who was on their feet all day. Granted it wasn't one of Oprah's Favorite Things, but it was nothing to sneeze at and it did fulfill the twenty dollar minimum. Since the gifts were all wrapped no one knew what they were getting or of course who they were from. The gift I ended up getting was Sandra Bullock's "Murder by Numbers" This was 2009 and that movie had come out in 2002. How exactly did someone spend twenty dollars on it? It had clearance bin written all over it, but me being the Christian boy I am took it with love and admiration in my heart.
Our bartender Luke had picked up my gift and seemed genuinely content with it. I approached Luke later to try to get a clue as to what he really thought of the gift he hat gotten from his unknown secret Santa. "So what did you end up getting as your secret Santa gift Luke?" I sheepishly asked. Luke immediately turned red-faced and loudly proclaimed: "I got some crappy house shoes, just what the fuck am I supposed to do with them?
I had an idea what Luke could in fact do with the house shoes, but it being the Baby Jesus' birthday I kept it to myself.
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