Susan Keezer: The deadly sin of regifting
This story came to me as a cautionary tale from out of state. I’ve not used any names for obvious reasons and modified what I was told.
Someone’s birthday is moving up the calendar into view. It is a friend, and you want to give this person some token of esteem. After all, you’ve known her for years. The two of you and some others have shared the ups and downs of life. The to-ings and fro-ings of life and the lateral moves that sometimes make progress close to impossible. She’s not your closest friend but you would donate a pint or two of blood if she needed it.
So you feel the need to find a gift, wrap it up, buy an appropriate card and deliver it to her on her birthday…or as close as you can. Maybe it is not Tuesday but Thursday. Wait!
It was yesterday. Nuts.
Too late to shop for anything now.
You look around the house for something, anything and your eyes land on that sweater you’ve never worn. Why haven’t you? It is a great color. Um. Yes, you did wear it a few months ago. But just once. It is still in pristine condition…you can give it to her.
Gift bag? Box? Ah, there’s a bag in the bottom drawer of the dresser. It has some tissue paper in it. Good.
You fold up the sweater neatly and tuck inside the bag.
Then you call your friend and casually say, “I am an idiot — I forgot your birthday yesterday, even though I have your gift sitting here right in front of me. Are you free for lunch tomorrow? Great. I’ll meet you at Ptomaine’s at 1 p.m.”
You are so proud of yourself for finessing this whole thing.
The sun rises the next morning, you sit up in bed, yawn, stretch and smile to yourself. You are meeting your friend for lunch. On the way, you will pick up a nifty birthday card to go with the gift that is waiting by the door.
You know she will love it. It is, after all, a color you both love: a soft aqua with threads of lime green trimming the wrists and neck.
The next morning you are snapping hangars across the rod in your closet and settle on a smart “going out for lunch” ensemble: a pair of ivory silk wide-leg pants, black patent-leather wedge-heeled sandals, a cerise chiffon, tie-at-the waist blouse and enough beads to make your neck ache.
You grab the gift, get into the car and zip along to the local drug store to buy a birthday card. You arrive at Ptomaine, park and go in, carrying the gift. Your friend is there, waiting in a booth.
The two of you air kiss and sit down to start catching up with chit-chat from your crimson lips.
Lunch is lovely, and the two you continue to talk about your latest doings. Your table is cleared, and now you hand her the gift.
She takes it, and a small furrow creases her brow.
“Thank you — what CAN this be?”
She removes the tissue paper and takes out the sweater.
You wait for her eyes to light up and a smile of excitement. And wait.
“Don’t you like it?” you ask.
“Yes. In fact, I liked it so much, I bought it for you for your birthday. In fact, I gave it to you in this gift bag. Funny thing, my card for you is still in here.”
The earth stopped turning on its axis. A solar eclipse happened instantaneously. A cow gave birth to quadruplets on a farm in Wales. A 90-year-old Tongan man leaped to the top of a flag pole and started spinning on one toe. Three-year-old Aletha Mae Smithers in Iowa began reciting Elizabethan poetry.
You turned into a pillar of salt draped in cerise, ivory and black.
You committed one of society’s deadliest sins. You are now branded as a REGIFTER. From that point on, wherever you go within your circle of friends and acquaintances, you sense you are being shunned. Somehow, you don’t get messages that dinner dates have been changed. Phone calls aren’t returned for days. How long will this go on?
But the worst part was the look on your friend’s face when you tried to explain away the whole mess. You couldn’t ... she knew it, and you knew it.
The fact of the matter was right in front of the two of you in pale aqua with lime green trim.
— Susan Keezer lives in Adrian. Send your good news to her at lenaweesmiles@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Susan Keezer: The deadly sin of regifting
