Over the last week or so, I have been listening to audiobooks by David Sedaris. Most of the time I really enjoy his writing, but occasionally as a middle aged hetrosexual woman, who has been married longer than many people reading this post have been alive, his work makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s good to step outside of your comfort zone occasionally though isn’t it? Other times, I am snorting with laughter as I drive, but most often I am left pondering what horrors their parents must have inflicted upon them as children to cause them so many issues in adult life.
These audiobook’s are my companions as I drive to and from work each weekday. Sometimes, I think that perhaps I should buy one of those language cd sets with an enormous number of cds that teach the willing
victim, learner to ask which way to the bus station, or to discuss if rain is expected that day. I’m happy listening to various authors though; this year alone I have listened through Neil Gaiman, Bill Bryson, M.C.Beaton, a 2cd set of the BBC’s Just a Minute, and now dear old David.
Yesterday I started listening to Sedaris’ Holidays on Ice, as I pulled into a takeaway drive through to buy something to feed the hungry hordes at home. Let’s not go into all the wrongs of fast food, as I know them all too well, but somedays it is all that I can muster at the end of a day. So, let’s just leave that subject there.
As I was pulling into the drive through and deciding what to order, Mr Sedaris was describing the Christmas season he spent working as a Santa Elf in a department store. Nothing spoils Christmas like working in retail. I know, I lived it for 7 years! According to the author, one afternoon the elves realised that the word Santa was an anagram of Satan, or he stated, Satan is an anagram of Santa.
What is it with anagrams and religion? I mean there is God and Dog, Satan and Santa. Is there a message in there for us; a cosmic joke even?
Usually as I draw level with the pickup window I switch the audio off and sit in silence while waiting for my lard load. This time however, I was slow, too tired to coordinate lifting my left hand to the audio button (remember we sit on the right side of our cars, drive on the left side of the road) and also press the button to lower the window. I just lowered the window to take the delivery.
So, just as the window lowered, and the young male attendant leaned forward to hand me the paper bag dinner, David Sedaris’ voice rang out with the word “SATAN!”.
I saw the attendant’s arm hesitate just a moment, and I am sure anyone watching would have seen his body jerk back in an arch from the window. I switched off the cd and dinner was delivered. He was a little unsettled as he said “There you go, mate!” and he didn’t wait for a reply, as he snapped shut the glass of the takeout window with a swoosh.
Mate? Mate! Just wait until he checks under his tree this Christmas, and we will see who is going to jingle his bells! Mate indeed.