Christmas Tales - Brandon Witt Page 0,32
all beautiful. But none of them fell into the category of Bathhouse Santa and myself.
I had to be reading him wrong.
I wasn’t. Couldn’t be. The finger, the chin, the look in his eyes. For whatever reason, he wanted me.
I turned and walked back toward the office. I nearly made it before I realized I was crying. Thank God I hadn’t walked in where Philip could see. I made a quick journey to the restroom and tried to figure out what was wrong with me. I quickly realized that was way too big to be tackled now. Or ever. Instead, I got myself back together and washed my face.
My shift ended in less than an hour. Surely I’d be able to leave and get home before James left and needed his license back.
Two
Eight more days and it would be over. The stupid carols would go away. People dealing with snow removal and icy roads would replace the frantic energy filling the city. Eight more days and I could quit being angry all the time.
“Dude. You gotta focus. You’ve not even gotten three cities built yet.”
Tearing my gaze away from the little girl screaming over a unicorn stuffed animal her mother put back on the shelf, I looked at my friend. “I swear to God, Lori, if I make it through Christmas without smothering a school bus filled with children, it will be a miracle. Why do parents insist on taking their kids shopping to make their Christmas lists? It just pisses them off when they can’t get the toy right then.”
She flicked her gaze toward the battle of the unicorn, where the mother was now yelling as well. She shook her head and gave an exasperated stare. “Bad parenting or not, we are in a toy store.”
I glared at her. “We’re in a game store. That’s a very different thing.”
“A game store that has toys, costumes, magic tricks, stuffed animals—”
I cut her off. “You’re a traitor.”
She gave a little snort. “And you’re just a Scrooge who hates Christmas. What’s so bad about it? It’s supposed to be happy and cheerful.”
“Doesn’t sound that way.” I gestured toward the still-squabbling fiasco toward the center of the store. “And what isn’t bad about Christmas? It takes over everything. You can’t go anywhere without hearing that fucking music. People are stressed about money and presents. There’s Christmas lights everywhere….” I paused, considering. “Okay, well, the Christmas lights are actually kinda pretty, but still, they’re everywhere. It’s eye assault. Did I ask to have to see bright lights everywhere I look? What if it’s giving me an astigmatism? Why don’t I get a choice in the matter? Maybe my eyes require a more natural look. Not to mention all the people out there who have seizures due to flashing lights!”
Lori just cocked an eyebrow.
“And even here at The Wizard’s Chest! My favorite place in the world. The place I’m happiest is invaded by screaming, selfish children and their stupid parents, just to take away my joy.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips curved up. “Take away your joy? Are you enrolled in how to be dramatic classes, or is that just in your gay DNA?”
“No, he’s right,” Jerry piped up from across the table. “It sucks! This is the only place I have a social life and friends, and they have to come ruin it all with a bunch of racket and noise.”
Lori spared him a glance. “One, Jerry, that’s sad. You need to have more of a social life than role-playing and board games. And two, don’t encourage Brian. He’s anti-Christmas enough without your help.”
Jerry wasn’t to be dissuaded. “It’s even worse on Pathfinder night.” He motioned to the board between us. “Catan doesn’t require as much attention or dedication, but on Pathfinder nights, I do a shitty job because of all the noise.”
Lori snorted again and opened her mouth, but I cut her off before she could speak. She didn’t like Jerry all that much and would have no problem telling him he sucked at Pathfinder all year round, not just at Christmas. “I agree, Jerry. Pathfinder night is my favorite too. It’ll be better soon. We’ve only got to make it eight more days.”
“You both need an attitude adjustment. I agree that Christmas is a bit… frantic, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s supposed to be about loving each other, and it really is beautiful, especially in the snow. All those lights.” She lifted a finger, silencing me before