If I have learned anything from watching television, the holiday season is about being thankful, so here is my list of things for which I am thankful (to no one in particular).
[1] Television. Without it, I would be hopelessly unentertained.
[2] Junk food. Without it, I would be hopelessly famished.
[3] Freedom. Without it, I would be helplessly coerced.
As you can see, there is much to be appreciative for, and the existence of entertainment, sustenance, and free will in my decision making is a cause for celebration. I go on to share my list of thanks with the strange creatures that inhabit my home, through the most simple method of communication possible (the classic 'sticky note on the refrigerator' routine). Could you believe that they would respond simply by setting fire to the backyard? My vegetable patch – ruined.
I am trying to determine what, exactly, would possess these people – or maybe it was just one of them, acting alone – to react to a positive “fridge note” in such a destructive (not to mention expensive) manner. Sure, I knew about the psychopaths when I signed the lease, but I thought they were relatively cool... you know, the sort of folks who wouldn't just go setting fires to deliberately placed piles of trash all over a meticulously nurtured personal garden. Like many unsuspecting hard workers who are foolish and desperate enough to trust hipsters, I got burned.
Well, I have made up my mind. I will not be buying these ungrateful, unreasonable people any Christmas presents at all. Nor shall I put up any decorations, and I certainly will not prepare my annual fresh vegetable stew. Instead, I will level with them: if they are to trash my patch, I will invite my old 'friends' from 'school' over for a 'few' carefree drinks.
That didn't turn out to be the best idea, although the first thing the landlord noticed was the evident fire in the backyard, which I explained clearly was not my fault, unless perhaps indirectly if my happy fridge note inspired the violence, but the landlord did not seem interested in the finer details. I did not get the bond money back. Right before I was evicted, the eggnog in the fridge went off, but I drank it anyway, and threw my guts up all over the streets as I wandered around asking people for spare change. Merry Christmas.
