The Week Before Christmas
I wrote this for my coworkers several years ago, when I was the store inventory manager at a used book store. It was recently rediscovered in a closet purge. The rhyming is truly wretched, but I think the point still comes across.
And, oh yeah, it’s all true.
‘Twas the week before Christmas
and all through the store
The employees were cranky
again–what a bore!
Anne-Marie with her comics
sat in the corner
While Sean was alone
in the john with some porno
Claire called in sick
that’s twice in two days
And David’s in hospital
with pneumonic malaise
Don and Tad have gone out
for a smoke and a beer
And won’t bring any back
for the rest of us here
Li sat pricing shipment
for most of the day
While pondering traffic
in utter dismay
Boxes were emptied,
books piled in stacks
And we bitch about Management
behind all of their backs
Adam priced records
cassettes, and CDs
Complaining about the Captain, Tenille,
Yanni and the BeeGees
Steve’s on the schedule
but now can’t be found
While an irate shopper
shoves books to the ground
Becky’s art section
is totally trashed
And everyone’s tripping
over Jess’s old stash
We remember her fondly,
and Jane, also Lora
and don’t forget Tom
who now lives in Florida
Up at the register
Matt sits and sighs
surveying the chaos
while Brett’s back on buys
That crap keeps on coming
though they said it’d be slow
Who lies with statistics?
We certainly know!
Amy’s out shelving
in religion or health
Thinking of bonuses
or lottery wealth
A ticket to see Mom
and Dad is her dream
As she listens to us
making jokes quite obscene
The shelves are all empty
the tables a mess
Who gives a damn?
“Not me,” we confess
The numbers are good
The profits are high
But we’re all exhausted
and ready to cry
“No more Oprah,
no Geddes, no Polar Express
No Soup for the Soul
Grisham? Certainly, yes!”
The History of Farting
has sold really well
But we’ve twenty-two copies
of A History of Hell
We count and we cringe
when the register says
we’ve done fifteen thousand
in less than two days
“This just can’t keep up”
we say to ourselves
But hush when we see
the gaps in our shelves
And so here we stand
at the end of December
All tired and stressed
with an urge to dismember
to kill, mutilate,
fold, bend, and staple
or maybe just drink ourselves
under the table
Powered by FireStats