Status: 'Tis the season (almost-but that's good enough)
The Magic of Macy's
Prologue.
This year will mark my second Christmas with Macy’s, and let me tell you: there most certainly is not a miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street.
What there is however are endless amounts of snot-nose little shits called ‘kids’ and rich white folk who have nothing better to do but bring every God damn grandchild they know into the store to meet Santa and drop heinous amounts of cash on gifts. It’s unsightly. Working at Macy’s this time of year sucks the spirit right out you.
So, call me cynical. Sebastian does. But, if you had to endure the magic of Macy’s in my position, you’d never procreate or buy another Christmas tree again.
But, that wasn’t even the entirety of my shitty existence. Last year, when I was a bright-eyed, bushy tailed employee of the magic of Macy’s, I was into the whole Christmas bullshit. I let myself get swept away in the snowy rigmarole. I’d blame it on the nog or the way the city looks at night out in Rockefeller Center. I allowed myself to fall into step with societies Christmas/New Year’s expectations.
I can’t even get out the grotesque words to fully explain because even a year later it doesn’t make sense. But, I guess as quickly as one can fall ‘in love’ during the holidays, they can leave without a word or phone call.
Would that have killed him? Just a letter by carrier pigeon or a simple text would have sufficed. But, no. I suppose I had maximized my usage. The holidays were over, and so were we.
Well Merry fucking Christmas, Niall Horan. Enjoy your stay in New York on the most wonderful day of the year. And welcome to the annual ‘Pain In My Ass’ holiday sales event. You just become one more pain in my ass this holiday season.
What there is however are endless amounts of snot-nose little shits called ‘kids’ and rich white folk who have nothing better to do but bring every God damn grandchild they know into the store to meet Santa and drop heinous amounts of cash on gifts. It’s unsightly. Working at Macy’s this time of year sucks the spirit right out you.
So, call me cynical. Sebastian does. But, if you had to endure the magic of Macy’s in my position, you’d never procreate or buy another Christmas tree again.
But, that wasn’t even the entirety of my shitty existence. Last year, when I was a bright-eyed, bushy tailed employee of the magic of Macy’s, I was into the whole Christmas bullshit. I let myself get swept away in the snowy rigmarole. I’d blame it on the nog or the way the city looks at night out in Rockefeller Center. I allowed myself to fall into step with societies Christmas/New Year’s expectations.
I can’t even get out the grotesque words to fully explain because even a year later it doesn’t make sense. But, I guess as quickly as one can fall ‘in love’ during the holidays, they can leave without a word or phone call.
Would that have killed him? Just a letter by carrier pigeon or a simple text would have sufficed. But, no. I suppose I had maximized my usage. The holidays were over, and so were we.
Well Merry fucking Christmas, Niall Horan. Enjoy your stay in New York on the most wonderful day of the year. And welcome to the annual ‘Pain In My Ass’ holiday sales event. You just become one more pain in my ass this holiday season.
♠ ♠ ♠
So, this morning, I had one 1D fic. Now, I have four. Not sure that happened...But, I just couldn't resist when I entered these two contests (that I should probably put up the link for soon), and then I found that Macy video and everything fell into place. Call this my X-mas present to you all.
Fun fact: Lucy will be based heavily on me during the holiday season (except I didn't have a delicious love affair with Niall, or else my life would be far more interesting).
(: