Wednesday, December 24, 2003

Eleven is nearly here. The long vigil is over. The inn is quiet, save the sound of the waiters clearing the last of the tables from the lingering guests. Outside all is dark. The only break is a strand of christmas lights around the porch of the cafe across the street. Lady Marmalade filters in from the kitchen.

In a few minutes I will go back home and pick up andrea, and we'll rush to the sing-a-long at the Old Mission Santa Ines and the midnight mass. Neither of us are Catholic, but its the only service late enough. We'll both be up before six tomorrow. Work two shifts, then fall into bed. In the few hours between jobs we'll head to Ken and Grandma's to open a few presents. The rest we'll save for later.

I wish everyone could cook at home for Christmas. Gather their families around them in their own houses. Enjoying being hospitable and hosting. Instead, around here, precious few have the luxury of a day off. For the shopkeepers, and waiters, and clerks, and drivers, can look forward to impatience and rudeness and clamour all of this best of days. We did choose our lot, I suppose. But wouldn't it make sense on just one day for everything to close. So everyone could equally enjoy their families and relaxation...and not just another day of drudgery and frustration. And the drunks that just won't leave at the end of the night. When all you want to do is go home, walk right past the Christmas tree and stocking still brimming with presents you've neither had the time nor energy to open, and sleep until St. Patricks day. But the next morning you've got to check out the post-Christmas hangover crowd, with their children wild from the sugar-high. Or go to work three hours early to make signs for the day-after-Christmas sales. Or wait on tables who have the post-holiday-my-presents-weren't-as-great-as-the-ones-I-gave-blues.

So bah-humbug everyone! I'm sure my spirits will align themselves at church this evening...and I'll be able to celebrate the season with the best of them....until the first idiot tomorrow night complains about how crappy house wine is. You GET what you PAY FOR!

On the plus side, we do get time-and-a-half.....Merry Christmas!

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