Hearing my phone going berserk with its Christmas ring-tone I leaped from my bed to answer it but as I placed it to my ear I heard a familiar voice that sprung my slumbering eyes wide open. It was Christmas Eve and the manly voice on the end of the phone was my Boss. I was fully naked with not a stitch on me, blinds open, bag barely packed for staying at my Dad's and Mr. Warehouse's over Christmas and to top it all off I was due to start work in eleven-minutes. Good thing my Boss had called then, only problem was that he was currently a few streets away trying to find my flat and as a result would be turning up very, very shortly. Snatching at a cringe-worthy Christmas Jumper, jeans and some pants I struggled them on all whilst talking to my Boss and explaining that it didn't matter he was running late, I was just waiting patiently watching the news. Seeing him pull up outside my ground floor flat I knew I didn't have long to grab a few things, sling them in my mini-case and head out the door, not forgetting the lemon cake I had made especially for Christmas-Eve-do-fuck-all-at-work-day. Loading myself into the vehicle I tried not to make eye contact for I was yet to do my make-up and had only just thrown my hair into a messy bun - The stylish 'do for anyone who has a similar time keeping schedule as the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.
Face made up in the harsh bathroom light of the office I headed to my desk wishing Merry Christmas to all whom I met along the way. After a few hours of milling around trying to look as busy we were all told to log off and head home for the Holidays. Although as what seems to be a Christmas tradition at our place (I can only judge on last year and this year being with them) that everyone crams into someones car, usually the smallest and heads to Bedford Town Centre to see in the grey area between lunchtime and dinnertime with drink, drink and more drink. Last year, as was last year, there was five hours worth of drinking to be done, and whilst we all must have parted our separate ways at around four-ish this year, I was still fairly sozzled, despite it still being light outside. This didn't help as Mr. Warehouse, the new-ish girl at work and I stood in line for our tickets and on realising that my beloved Starbucks wasn't open I transcended into a full blown drunken-toddler break-down and all because I couldn't have my Eggnog Latte!
At my Dad's I had sobered up slightly from the fresh air walking and coffee that was awaiting me. Warm and toasty sat in front of the fire, Mr. Warehouse and I snuggled up after our Chinese takeaway and enjoying a Christmas film, Miracle on 34th Street. As it approached midnight Mr. Warehouse and I headed up to bed to await the big man in the morning. But after a god-awful nights sleep in my old spring-fucked double bed I was less than ready to start the day. But with my Dad's forceful encouragement I got out of bed and was washed, dressed and with hair and make-up done by eight-thirty, just in time for my favourite breakfast - Eggs Royale with coffee and Orange Juice. The only way this could have been better is if it was my cherished Eggnog Latte from Starbucks.
Finishing off breakfast I was eagerly prompted by Father to start the proceedings on opening presents. Wonderful gifts from my Dad and His Girlfriend came first a mixture of all sorts from baking goods and ingredients, a T-shirt, a much needed tool kit from IKEA, some gorgeous Christmas Smelling Yankee Candles I had been after for ages, a weird fish thing that sucks up egg yolks, Lily O'Brien's chocolates and even a Rape Alarm?! I mean thanks and all, I don't want to seem un-courteous or anything or rude, but really - a Rape Alarm?!?! I suppose in a way all of them helpful, handy and practical, which I suppose in a way is good, but after on learning that more had been spent on other people in the extended family than me, his own Daughter I wont lie, I did second guess some of the things I was bought. Not selfish or ungrateful, just confused slightly.
As I watched everyone else unwrap their gifts I watched as the excitement in the room evolved. Daddy had bought my Mr. Warehouse a bar of Guinness flavoured chocolate which matched with the bottle of Guinness flavoured ale I had bought him also. But Mr. Warehouse doesn't like Guinness. On closer inspection of his presents my darling boyfriend started to clock something wasn't right. A shamrock keyring?! A feather boa coloured green, white and orange - Supposedly "the colours of Arsenal's away kit yeah" I blagged hoping he wouldn't cotton on?! Then came the final present. As Mr. Warehouse opened the package he turned to me and said it was a letter for me. I took it, looked at it and returned it to him asking him to look inside. But as Mr. Warehouse went through the six return train tickets to Birmingham International he still looked confused.
"Bless him" I thought "Time to put him out his misery!"
And so, handing him his a red envelope he opened it cautiously. Inside he slid out two A4 pieces of paper and turned them round. Face cracking into a shocked but confused smile I explained that for the past three-months I had been keeping a secret that I had not only bought Mr. Warehouse tickets from Bedford to Birmingham International Airport, Flights to Dublin and a £200.00 hotel for four-nights over Valentines day 2016. He was overwhelmed I could tell. Speechless he sat there as he looked at everyone.
"And Yes, they all knew dear. Everyone from your mom to the guys at work - We had all kept it a big secret!" I explained, getting up to give him a big hug. For the rest of the day he was silent, or at least slightly subdued with the thought that what our initial £125.00 budget was and he had for the most part stuck to, I was smashing with just one present. But it wasn't about the money. It was about the life experiences and cramming in another holiday to the already packed year ahead of us both.
What did I get in return from my adorable Mr. Warehouse? Well I was bought some things that whilst were not on my list I doubt I could have bought them better myself. Several books on modern day serial killers and psychotic criminals, a DVD on John Wayne Gacy (Only because the John Wayne Gacy artwork I had asked for was slightly out of price range and wouldn't have arrived from America in time), some Tassimo Coffee and Hot Chocolate pods for my Tassimo Coffee Machine (Bought for me a few evenings before by Miss Tweedle-Dee as my Secret Santa gift - FYI: Haven't even had a chance to switch it on yet but love it already! Thank you Miss Tweedle-Dee). Along with a beautiful shabby chic jewellery box, Diamond Heart earrings, Pandora Safety Catch and some gorgeous home-ware pieces I think the boy did good!
But it didn't stop as when we arrived back at Mr. Warehouse's
mother's house that evening after a rather monotonous yet hectic Christmas dinner
with my Dad and his girlfriend's family. A bright blue-stoned silver necklace,
vouchers, perfume, chocolates, a Hedgehog Pandora Charms and even more smelly
candles and home-ware, all gifts that made me realise I was a very luck little
madam, not to include the range of alcoholic gifts I got from work and money I
had received from other Aunts and Uncles I have seen over the
Christmas/New Year Break.
And by being so absolutely spoilt this year has made me realise
just how lucky I am. Some people are not half or even an eighth luck to have
what I have. Even now as we speak there are people on the streets, hungry, cold
and lonely. Whilst it may not be Christmas for another year, please, I ask
for you, as I did, to think of those that aren't as fortunate to have friends,
family, gifts, food or something simple like a roof over their head and a warm
bed for the night to sleep in. Because in reality its the little things that
matter and we are all only a few pay-cheques away from being on the streets.
Merry Christmas and A Happy and Safe New Year 2016!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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