The Worst Gift Ever

Each year, instead of a meager Christmas bonus, our office staff held a luncheon and party during office hours on the Friday before the holiday. It wasn't the same as a few hundred bucks, but better than $25 - which is probably closer to what we would have received. Despite the complaints and moaning early on, it actually became a tradition that most office workers looked forward to, even if they refused to admit it.

Then it happened. A memo was sent via e-mail that our annual Christmas luncheon would not be taking place. Instead, it promised, our boss was going to give us a "big surprise" at the end of the day. As the hours ticked by, we began to come up with likely scenarios. While some thought our bonuses would be back, others imagined extra comp time, discounts on popular products or membership dues, and, from way out in left field, raises.

Being a cynic, I suggested that they'd simply hand out candy canes.

Slowly, the day ticked by. The light outside of my window grew dimmer, the phones stopped ringing with much vigor, and faces started to lose their luster. Clock-out time was within reach.

Then, the door to the rear stairwell swung open, but no one stepped through. Seconds passed as the boss's right-hand woman propped the door open with a wedge. Uh oh. It must be big.

DVD players? TVs? This might have been worth the wait after all.

What stepped through the door was my boss wearing a very ill-fitting Santa suit. He was carrying a large sack that looked far from filled to the brim. I don't know why he came to my desk first, but he did. His arm disappeared into the sack, groping at the bottom of the bag. If it was a check, I'd ignore the silly suit and not mention it every time he walks away from a terse morning exchange.

Instead of money, he pulled out a candy cane and held it out. I reached out hesitantly, almost expecting his arm to slide back into the bag for the second part of the "big surprise," but he walked to the desk next to mine and gave them the same gift.