I got a ride to work on Friday morning with Becky, one of my coworkers. When we got on the elevator in our office building to go up to the eighth floor where we work, there was already a woman from the third floor in there and a portly man with a white beard who could’ve been a dime-store Santa in his off time.
“Have we got everybody?” the woman asked brightly.
“Yes, there wasn’t anybody behind us,” Becky said.
“Good,” the santa-guy grumbled. “Don’t have to make a lot of stops then.”
Becky is one of those people who is always full of good cheer and likes to spread it around. To her, someone with a grumpy attitude is someone who needs cheering up. After the doors closed and we started up, she turned a little toward the santa-guy, smiled and said, “Ho-ho-ho!”
No response at all from santa-guy.
“Bet you get that a lot, huh?”
Still no response. But she wasn’t giving up. “At least from the kids, right?”
“Mostly from people who work at the DMV,” he finally said, just before the doors opened. “Makes me glad I don’t work at the DMV.”
As he stepped off the elevator, Becky rolled her eyes at me, and when he was out of earshot she said,
“Well, I tried.”
“Merry flippin Christmas, eh?” I answered.
This Is Drivel 