I have a confession. Some of you might find this pathetic and sad, but...it's who I am.
I love Christmas music.
No really. I love it. Even the weird jazzy Charlie Brown music.
You know those people who say, "Oh, I love Christmas, but I prefer to wait until after Thanksgiving before I start listening to the holiday music."
Well I'm one of them. Except I'm lying. I listen to Christmas music whenever I get the chance. June, August, January, it doesn't matter. And I allegedly have a station on my Pandora radio called "Christmas Lovelies."
(I also have this problem with Christmas movies, but that's another post.)
I generally try to keep this secret under wraps because frankly, I've already given people enough reasons to think I'm crazy. I don't need to fuel that fire. But after today, my cover has been officially blown.
This morning I had to drop off a large piece of furniture to a client for a project she's working on. And when I say large, I mean over 100 pounds.
Upon my arrival at the client's office, I realized that the piece of furniture I had (which, just in case you're wondering, is this) would not fit through the front door. I asked the receptionist if there was a warehouse person or facility guy who could help me unload the albatross chair from my car.
So the receptionist calls in Phillip.
And Phillip is cute. Not *swoon* cute, but cute enough that I become acutely aware that I might need a breath mint.
Phillip tells me to drive around to the back to the loading dock, where he will be happy to assist me with the unloading of my furniture.
So I do. And whilst I drive, I realize Josh Groban is singing "O Holy Night."
O Holy Crap.
The holy grail of Christmas songs. It's my fave. I turn it up super loudly and sing at the top of my lungs until I see Phillip in sight.
(After which I continue to sing, except through my teeth so he can't tell what I'm doing.)
I pull up to the loading dock and realize I have to back in. This is not good. I would proudly award myself the Worst Backer-Inner in the World Award if there were such a thing.
(Immediately followed by the Worst Puller Into the Garage-er Award.)
I cut the engine and jump out of the car, smiling at Phillip.
And then this happened:
Me: (awkwardly) Um, Phillip, I am really awful at backing in. And since there are railings on both sides of this loading dock, would you mind backing my car in for me? I'm sure your building will appreciate it.
Phillip: (nodding) Sure, no problem. I understand. It can be tough with those railings there.
Me: Well, be careful. That chair blocks the entire back windshield so you'll just have to use the side mirrors.
Phillip: (possibly rolling his eyes) Uh huh.
Me: (standing outside my car, and MAYBE trying to look really sophisticated and business-y.) You'll have to start the engine, I just turned it off.
Phillip: (Nods, hops in my car and starts engine)
Josh Groban: OHHHH NIGHT, DEE-VIIIIINNNNE! OH NIGHT....OHHH....NIGHT...DE VIIIIIINNNNNEEEEE!
Me: (looking for a hole to crawl in and die.)
Phillip: (Turns music down) Good song.
Me: Uh...yeah. It is. It's almost the holidays, so, ya know, I listen every now and again and usually I don't listen a lot but kind of felt in the mood today since it was chilly and...(trails off)
Phillip: This will just take a second. (backs my car into the correct spot and retrieves my heavy chair out of it.)
Me: (cheeks blazing) Well, thanks a lot. I appreciate it.
Phillip: Sure thing.
I quickly get back in my car and drive away like a bat out of hell, mortified that my Christmas secret has been uncovered.
But then "Merry Christmas Darling" by the Carpenter's came on and I forgot what I was upset about.