I’m tipsy and tired. My apologies if that becomes a factor in this entry.
Tonight was the annual Christmas Fair at the church by my childhood home, which I’ve been attending on an annual basis for, God, around twenty years now? Crazy. It’s become a little tradition for my sisters and I. We go, we browse, and we spend a ridiculous amount of money on the two hundred raffles they’ve got going for various holiday gift baskets, donated by families, stores and organizations from all around the city.
If you’re a longtime reader, you’ve heard about this fair, and you’ve heard about the raffles. Three years ago, after spending well over fifty bucks on tickets, I went home with a couple of cocoa mugs and Bill Cosby’s Cosbyology. It wasn’t quite as bad as not winning anything at all, but it was close. Last year, we fared a little better by winning two baskets — one including shoddy art supplies, and another featuring lavender-colored bath salts.
It’s become a running joke. With the amount of tickets I buy, it’s nearly a given that I’ll win something, but it always seems to be the worst thing possible. See, previously, when you entered a raffle, you weren’t vying for any specific basket. They were grouped together, with 7-10 different gift baskets sharing one coffee can full of raffle tickets. You could gun for a television and walk out with a homemade pillow with a Cavalier King Charles stitched into the middle. What, you thought I honestly sought out Cosbyology?
This year, things were different. This year, every basket had its own raffle ticket pail. While this made winning anything of substance more difficult, it at least meant that if I won, it’d be a prize that I actually had some small bit of interest in.
So, we get there, and I immediately buy something in the realm of 60 tickets, which I have to write my name, address and phone number on before I can spend them. My hand still feels like I just got through jacking off everyone in the northern hemisphere. It took over 30 minutes to fill out those stupid tickets, and I left the experience cursing my ancestors for providing me with such a ludicrously long surname.
After that, it was time to peruse the goods. As usual, there were a lot of crap raffles, but a lot of great ones. My eternal favorite? The “six foot stocking.” Since I was a kid, the church had this specific raffle going. They’d tape 20-30 toys to this ancient, gigantic wooden stocking, and if you won, you didn’t get to keep the stocking, but you got all the toys on it. Granted, I don’t have much use for what’s taped to that stocking at my age, but I can’t help but toss at least a few tickets into its corresponding raffle pail every year. I’ve been trying to win this thing since I was three feet tall. Someday, it will happen. Today was not the day, so don’t think I’m building towards any kind of monumental climax.
Aside from the glorious six foot stocking, I was mainly aiming for a Playstation 3, or this one basket that included both a bottle of Kahlua and a bottle of Sambuca, which technically aren’t my favorite liquors to drink, but are certainly my favorite liquors to say. Beyond those prizes were about ten others that seemed interesting enough to blow money on, and when all was said and done, I was confident that I’d spread enough tickets-with-my-name-on-them around to guarantee some sort of major award.
After that, we waited. We waited and waited and waited. They kept yelling “last call” on the raffle tickets, but after they did this eighty times, we figured out that “last call” was just a marketing ploy, and that it’d be some time before they actually got around to naming the winners. Part of me was ticked that I stood around in a hideously hot and crowded church for an extra hour just to come to this conclusion, but on the other hand, they were selling Irish coffees and cappuccinos spiked with Kahlua for 2 bucks a pop. Not sure if it’s even legal for a church to do that, but I wasn’t complaining, and this shit was strong.
So, we left the church and went to dinner at a sushi joint, where more alcohol flowed, along with lots of fish eggs and soup that they swore was miso despite the fact that it was very clearly just onion broth. There were a bunch of us, and since we’d all put in raffle tickets, the table was lined with everyone’s cell phones. First, my sister gets a call. She won a basket. A few minutes later, I get a call. Couldn’t hear too well, so I stepped outside. “You won the six foot stocking.” I gleefully return to the table, only to find my other sister cracking up and championing her ability to pull off a prank call even while sitting right next to me. Bitch. I tried to be a sport, but seriously…you don’t fuck around about the six foot stocking.
By the end of dinner, I’d given up hope. It was a total shock when my phone rang again, and this time, it was a legit call from the church. I’d won a basket, and for the first time in infinity years, I’d won a good basket.
Jackfuckingpot. JACKFUCKINGPOT! See, most of the baskets are pretty small, but there are a select few (around a dozen) that could be considered “big ticket” prizes. The raffle tickets for these particular baskets cost more, but if you win, you win big. And I won pretty big!
The main prize was a 7″ NextPlay portable DVD player, which retails for around a hundred bucks. It’s pretty, and blue, and for some reason, it comes with two different remote controls. The DVD player alone was more than enough to make this my most successful Christmas Fair adventure in history, but there was even more fun stuff under the cellophane. Also included were three DVDs — A Christmas Story, Elf and Shrek 3. I already have Ralphie and I don’t really want Shrek, but let’s not discount the regifting potential. Hidden even deeper in the basket was a $40 Blockbuster gift card, which provides me a reason to go to our local Blockbuster for the first time in over a decade. And to top it all off, there was some weirdass baby Shrek plushie! The showstopper!
I’m so stoked. I mean, sure, my life isn’t going to change just because I’ve won a portable DVD player that I don’t have much use for, but after a lifetime spent pouring money into this church fair and getting nothing back but Cosbyology and maybe a free cupcake with red and green sprinkles, this is damn near cathartic. I haven’t beaten the system, but it hasn’t beaten me.
And best of all, after we returned home with the goods, my girlfriend got a call — she won a basket, too!
Her crate full of pine nuts and anchovies can’t hold a candle to my DVD player, but a bonus win is a bonus win, and we’ll happily take it.
I have to admit, I’ve still got my phone sitting next to me, just in case there’s a miraculous third win. True, it’s after midnight and totally out of the question, but I’ve got the fever. Maybe they’ll call tomorrow? I really wanted that Kahlua/Sambuca basket. Kahlua…Sambuca. Kahlua…Sambuca. So much fun to say!
Posted by Matt. E-mail me!
Ghosted by 
like that but I don’t want to get any further behind. Better late than blah blah??
I love The Waitresses Christmas song to this very day, always have, always will. There’s something so “We’re 20somethings trying to figure this whole adult thing out” vibe that is missing in most family-centered Christmas tunes.
Also, the Low Christmas album is AWESOME. Highly recommended.
Belle and Sebastian did Christmas tunes, as well, including covers of Charlie Brown Christmas. Also awesome. So is the Home Alone soundtrack.
Geez, I’m such a Christmas music junkie.