Monday, January 10, 2011

The Gift that Keeps on Giving....

I have been working at a country club for three years as an administrator. Every year at the holidays, people bring in candy, cards, and gifts to show their appreciation of the work I do, and it's very nice and sweet. Sometimes the gifts are monetary, other times they are more personal. This year, I received a lovely jewelry set, some candy, some cash, and this...
The lady who brought it in was very excited about it, and told me I could put it on my desk so I could have pictures of my family to look at during the long hours that I am at work. I'm sure she assumed that I have children, or a spouse, or something to put in there that would remind me of why I am working in the first place.

I open the box, and these are the examples they have for me to go off of...
So, I need to find a man. Get me some babies. Dye my hair blond. Buy two adorable puppies. And travel. That's what this company says will make me happy, so I'd better get on it, stat.

I've got the travel part down. And I can put in photos of my old, arthritic dog, Bailey. And maybe a picture of me bungee jumping in British Columbia, or one from my future trapeze lesson I bought myself. Or a photo of me and my girlfriends in LA, or a picture of my cute little Mini Cooper. Or me on the St. Christopher Bridge in Prague, in front of the Mannequin Pis in Brussels, or at Bergen Belsen in Germany. And when people get confused by the photos and ask, "Where are the pictures of your family? Your kids? Your perfect husband and perfect pets?" I'll tell them what I always want to say, "I'm single, unattached, and adventurous. And that's good enough for me. Can it be good enough for you?"

2 comments:

  1. Woot!

    You can always borrow my husband for cute photos if you want. ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ahahaha! Thanks for the kind offer. That sounds like a bad romantic comedy waiting to happen. I'd put the photos on my desk, and then the man of my dreams would come in and think I was married, and I'd have to confess after two hours of drivel that I was lying.

    ReplyDelete