Ah, Christmas time. It’s the most wonderful time of the year. The perfect time to play people for suckers, right?

A co-worker told me a story today about their weekend hunt for a Christmas tree. What? Already?!? But that’s another story.

Her story reminded me of a little tale:

I was strolling the city streets of Tijuana, Mexico, when we came across a sandwich board sign on the sidewalk that read, “free margarita with your meal.” That sounded good. Then we were like, “What restaurant?” All we could see was a tiny doorway with steps descending down into a pitch black mysterious darkness.

Feeling adventurous, we climbed down those steps and found a little restaurant. We were seated, placed our orders, and then served our food. Finally we spoke up and said, “Hey, what about those free margaritas?” Oh yes, they exclaimed. Let us get those for you.

The free margaritas then arrived as promised. Each one was served in a shot glass.

I think we all know the moral of this story, right kids? Never believe anything anyone tells you … ever. Especially when an economic transaction hangs in the balance.

So, back to the Christmas tree story. 🙂

My friend and her entire family and even the young ones were enticed out in the freaking woods by an advertisement in the newspaper. “Cut your own Christmas tree! Come see Santa! Free hot cocoa and sleigh rides. Saws provided.” That sounds pretty darn good. The young ones were even asked if they wanted to see Santa. Of course they responded, “Yes, yes, yes! Santa!” Thus, the hopes of young children were raised with the great promise of meeting the man himself.

Can you guess what happens next?

Yes, they arrive at some dumpy house out in the woods. It was so dumpy they had to ask, “Are we in the right place?” Yes, they were told. “The Christmas trees are around back.” Ever hopeful, the family trudged on. What did they find? A homemade scarecrow sitting in a chair made up to look like Santa Claus, accurate in every detail including the blue jeans. On a table they found hot water, styrofoam cups and hot cocoa packets. Oh that brings back delightful memories of Christmas’ past!

The five year old little boy, God bless his precious heart, looked at the Santa scarecrow and exclaimed, “Santa Claus is dead!”

You just can’t beat Christmas spirit like that!

In short, the whole place was a freakin’ joke. Just another case of lying to make a buck. Merry fucking Christmas to you!