Festive Naïveté

The clueless administration of the warehouse equated holiday celebration with normalcy. They put substantial effort into decorating for the major holidays, which means they occasionally ordered the mouth-breathing activities staff drones to adorn the warehouse with colorful and shiny festive crap (which no doubt mesmerized the housekeeping staff).

The drones put extra effort into decorating the lobby—the head of the Activities Department had drilled the importance of first impressions into them. The warehouse heralded several years worth of Halloweens with a commonplace “cardboard gravestones arranged around an open cardboard coffin” tableau. The names of the administrator, head nurse, et al had been scrawled on the gravestones in urban-gang-graffiti script; not as a result of wishful thinking, rather as an insincere but obligatory tribute. The drones had fashioned the dummy occupying the coffin from discarded clothes stuffed with crumpled newspaper and had then attached a child’s trick-or-treat mask above the tattered shirt.

But they really demonstrated their worth when decorating the lobby for Christmas. Immediately after Thanksgiving waddled out of sight, some of the drones would get all gussied up in those ridiculous dollar store Santa hats, which I’m sure spread holiday cheer among the grumpy-Gus or Debby-downer residents. Every Christmas season a spectacular winter wonderland greeted visitors to the warehouse.

One year the drones fabricated an ill-proportioned sleigh from cardboard cartons. They did a half-assed job of spray-painting it silver, then sloppily glued cotton balls along the outside edges of the body and threw several gift-wrapped empty boxes on the inside bench. Satisfied with their handiwork, the drones put the life-sized replica on display in the lobby. They also propped an inflatable female love doll up against the paneled wall next to the sleigh like a stoned XXX spokesmodel. The doll wore nothing save for a Santa hat. Her cavernous mouth gaped, her mitten-like hands were molded to accept engorged schlubhood, and onlookers could clearly see her rudimentary vinyl genitalia.

I made some smart-ass remarks concerning the display to the secretary, the head of the Activities Department, and several CNA’s. Their ignorance of the doll’s intended function initially befuddled and ultimately disturbed me. (I considered that maybe everyone knew damned well the purpose of such a doll but given the unbelievable stupidity that surrounded me, I couldn’t be sure.) I asked the head of the Activities Department where she had gotten the doll and she lazily answered, “Oh, it be just laying ‘round.” Finally I mentioned to the administrator that he must’ve noticed the fuck doll in the lobby. He smirked while he pontificated, “Those people deserve whatever they get from one another.” I thought for sure that the administrator would order the love doll removed at the angry request of the warehouse owners or maybe the relative or friend of a resident. I was again befuddled and disturbed to see the display untouched for the entire season.

The morally superior owners of this particular warehouse and several others practice traditional Judaism and won’t tolerate Christmas trees.

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