After the age of 35 I think it’s pointless to celebrate birthdays, but every July, with depressing regularity, people start asking me, “What do you want for your birthday?” and I always say, “I don’t want anything. Really.” But do people ever listen? Instead of taking me at my word they feel compelled to buy me something I don’t need, don’t want and can’t use.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, and I know I’m impossible to shop for: I don’t own a suit so I certainly don’t need a tie, and I don’t need any more cargo shorts or tee-shirts or flip-flops. I don’t wear cologne and I hate jewelry, even a watch. My kitchen is filled with gifts I will never use: (A cheese grater? A rolling pin? Really?) I no longer listen to CDs or read books because I listen to music and read on my smart phone. If someone buys me a bottle of wine my partner ends up drinking it because I prefer Diet Coke.
This is why when people ask me what I want for my birthday I generally say, “Nothing,” but if, like my siblings, they persist, I’ll say, “Fine, buy me a restaurant gift card.” If I have to get a present, at least a restaurant gift card is something I know I will actually use: I love to eat out, I travel frequently for my job and restaurant gift cards are very functional.
After many, many years of repetition, the message finally got through and this year my older sister got me a gift card to Panera while my middle sister got me gift me cards to Chili’s and the Olive Garden.
As I was examining my Panera gift card my older sister said, “I put the validation receipt from Walgreen’s on the back.”
My middle sister’s ears pricked up. “You bought your gift card at Walgreen’s?”
My older sister nodded enthusiastically. “They have millions of them. One-stop- shopping,” she said brightly.
“I see,” said my middle sister, and gave me a look: lips pursed, she can simultaneously express disapproval, pity and shock with a single raised eyebrow.
My older sister was instantly defensive. “What’s with the look?” she said ominously.
“Nothing,” said my middle sister, but I figured she was not done. She wasn’t.
After a brief pause she continued: “It’s just that I drove all the way to the Olive Garden and then all the way to Chili’s on the other side of town to buy Guy’s gift cards,” she said primly. “I love my brother. I would not buy his birthday gift at Walgreen’s.” She managed to make “Walgreen’s” sound like an affront.
My older sister’s jaw dropped; clearly she was about to respond, but my middle sister continued. “I guess it was much more convenient to buy Guy’s gift while you were picking up Metamucil and Ben Gay,” she said. “No point in wasting your time actually ‘shopping’ for his gift,” she concluded.
It was time for the counter-attack. “For my last birthday you bought me a Bed, Bath and Beyond gift card at Publix,” said my older sister accusingly. “Publix!”
“Publix is not Walgreens,” said my middle sister patronizingly. “And you’re wrong. I bought it at Target.”
My older sister was fuming. “It doesn’t matter where you buy the card, it matters where you spend it,” she said, looking to me for confirmation. “Right?”
“Well,” I said slowly, “Target does have way more panache than Walgreen’s.”
My sisters were about to take this to a whole other level when my partner, who has no sisters and clearly wished he was dead, handed me another birthday card. “It’s from your brother in Ocala,” he said hastily.
I opened the card and inside found another gift card, to Subway, and attached to the card was the validation receipt. My face fell.
“He bought my gift at Wal-Mart?” I said.