‘Twas three weeks before Christmas
‘Twas three weeks before Christmas, when all through the house
I couldn’t find a damn thing to eat;
So picked up the phone and ordered from Chipotle,
A burrito bowl with steak and brown rice;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
“Fucking Door Dash… what the hell?”
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
So up to the driveway the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of fast food, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard the bell ring,
As I opened the door, and was turning around,
Through the front door St. Nicholas came in with a bound.
He was dressed all in faux fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of take-out bags he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And unpacked my Chipotle; then turned with a jerk,
“You’re probably wondering why I’m delivering your food” he said;
“The thought did cross my mind” I replied.
“Well given the ongoing supply chain issues, the additional cost of freight and how much more expensive it has become to make toys for these damn vegan kids, no leather, no down, you get the picture, I needed a side gig to make ends meet.”
I looked out the window and saw his sleigh had a lot of lawn ornaments and such stuck in it.
“It’s one thing to visit houses in the dead of night and quite another to make deliveries in the middle of the afternoon. Landings can be tricky” he said in answer to my unasked question.
Both of our eyes were drawn to a crushed plastic baby Jesus statue wedged between the stanchions and a runner on his sleigh.
“How’s that for a metaphor?” he inquired with a chortle and let loose another wink and twist of his head.
Then he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Thanks for the tip and remember to give me a nice, not naughty, review!”
I could hear a Tom Petty song playing in his sleigh;
You Don’t Know How It Feels I believe.
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