Do Secret Santa, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said.

I’ve spent the better part of three weeks organizing what should have been a fun and simple Secret Santa for my department at work. It’s been a pain from the word “go.” We set a maximum of $30 and a minimum of $20.

First, one of the kids in my department recommends a website he says his family uses every year. The thing with this website is that you have to have an email address or phone number to invite people and I don’t have everyone’s number. So, I use their work emails, but the firewalls in place prevent them from receiving the emails.

Second, my supervisor spends the entire three weeks arguing with everyone about the location one of the girls recommended, but won’t make an actual decision about where she does want to go; all she’ll say is that she wants to be able to have a drink.

Third, the day before, one girl says she won’t be there, two more say they’ll be late because of a family event, and still another says she’ll be out of town. This isn’t even to mention the ones who back out day-of.

Finally, the day of the exchange arrives and three members of our department not only don’t show, but won’t answer their phones. My supervisor stands at the head of the table and whines about how she’s worked so hard to put this together and she’s so offended by the ones who didn’t show up. My eyes are about bugging out of my head because the literal most she did was suggest the restaurant we were visiting at the last minute. In fact, she had someone else buy the Secret Santa gift for her.

I keep my peace because I need my job. But, I spent $29.87 on my SS because I know what she likes. I can tell most of the others maybe spent $20, max. The girl who drew my name is one of the ones who didn’t bother to show. A week later, she hands me a gift bag with the biggest grin on her face. I open it to find a small beading set for making earrings with and I think, “Oh, she’s noticed I make most of my own jewelry. Never mind I don’t use beads; this is almost thoughtful.”

It turns out that set cost her $8, less than half of the agreed-upon minimum, which was set in order to prevent bad gifting of precisely that nature.

I’m mad enough to spit.