Opinion: Swearing off Saint Nick

I discovered something during winter break. I found an answer to a question that has plagued me all of my life.

I found out, without a shadow of a doubt, that there is a Santa Claus and he's a douche.

Now, this may seem a bit childish to some. After all, I'm a quarter century old. By now, I should certainly know that first of all, old Saint Nick is a myth. Second, he works for kids. Well, some of us are just more gullible than others.

I asked for one thing this Christmas; a job. Although there were many things under my tree, a job was not among them. Now, the common question I received about this request is, "How is a job something Santa can give you?" Granted, this request isn't something tangible, so it's a tall order. Still, I know of plenty of people who have gotten what they want regardless of how unpractical a gift was requested.

My gift was practical and I got zilch. I did, however, get a plethora of socks. I mean, really? Socks? I'm not 10, I make my socks last.

It's this sort of taunting that has fueled my fury. At first, I thought Mr. Kringle has an issue with me. Maybe I'd done something in the past to piss him off – I am Jewish after all. But then I heard from several friends about how they got screwed by the S-man this year.

One friend got a tie, and those are nice for 40-year-old men. I've got news for you, Santa, no 22-year-old wants a tie and they certainly don't want the odd orange sunrise number you seem to be dealing out. I mean, sure, ties are nice. I wear ties, so does my friend, but we buy attractive ties. This gift seemed like something out of Kohl's summer catalog that just happened to survive in the store until winter.

Even worse was the $10 Target lamp another friend of mine received. Nothing says, "I just mailed it in this year," like ties, lamps and socks. What's the next step? Not wrapping the presents.

Maybe it's not Santa's fault that I didn't get a job. Maybe it's because I only applied to one place, was too prideful, and was competing with several thousand other people. Maybe that's the reason, but I'm not big on personal accountability, so I'm going to put an "X" on that idea.

The reality is that it's Santa's fault. I asked and he did not deliver. Screw you, Santa. I'm going back to my roots and getting eight mediocre presents spread over a week. No chance for disappointment there.