Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
Hi, it’s Mia remember me? I’m the one that left you the Sicilian slice with pepperoni, and cold Corona next to the macadamia nut cookies my cousin baked for you last Christmas. Thank you so very much for the gifts last year. I loved each and every one of them.

This year I’m writing to request something for my friend you know who I’m writing about, she’s the one with that little spawn of Lucifer dog that if true to her nature has attempted to take a chunk out you as well. The dog has issues Santa, major issues. I’m pretty sure it’s due to those antlers she makes it wear on Christmas Eve, things like that on a tiny dog only serve to remind it of its’ inadequacies in the doggie world. Still I don’t know about you but hand to Rudolph’s shiny nose if the little bugger tries to bite me again it is so on.

My friend is an attractive, sweet 28 year old girl who has led a sheltered life. She's never had a boyfriend, never been kissed, and has never been on a date. We've all tried hooking her up with guys but her shyness prevents it from going beyond the intro. Santa, all she needs is that one special guy to look beyond her shyness. As a result of her loneliness she lavishes all her attention on her dog. The other day she went clear across town in crappy weather to the local Petco to have her little demondog’s picture taken with an anorexic looking pimply faced teenaged Santa. The $ 5.00 Polaroid wasn’t even for a Christmas card it was just a keepsake.

Several of us were standing outside our classroom talking during a break she sent the picture she’d just had taken to my phone. It wasn’t a flattering picture to either the dog or the Santa. Because it was so cheesy looking I found myself chuckling at the picture. My friends asked what I was laughing about and I turned my phone towards them so they could see the photo and because they know Monica from school I told them who it was from. The two girls shook their head in dismay and then in unison said, “She really needs to get laid.” The sad part was that as they were saying it I was actually thinking it. One of my male classmates who’d just walked over had caught our conversation stared over my shoulder at the picture. He put his hands on my shoulder and said, “Yeah she really does. Maybe you should write a letter to Santa for her.”

So Santa there you have it that’s my request and the story behind it. I’m not saying you have to stick a gift wrapped guy under her tree on Christmas Eve but do you think you can have a word with the head of The New Year’s Eve wishes department and hook a sister up for 2009?



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