The Magic of Macy's

“For we need a little Christmas, right this very minute! Candles in the window, carols at the spinet. Yes, we need a little Christmas, right this very minute! It hasn’t snowed a single—”

I groaned loudly. The radio was blasting and Sebastian was singing as loudly and off-key as possible, directly in my ear. “Turn that shit off.” I commanded, shying away from him, shutting my eyes tighter.

“Come on, Lucy Goosy.” Sebastian’s hyper laugh filled the room of Christmas carols. “It’s time to get up!” He jumped on my bed; rocking me up and down as I buried myself further in the covers he tried to rip away.

“I will kill everything you love.” I promised him in a growl. Once again, he only laughed, knowing after two years of death threats that I was never going to make good on them.

Sebastian lifted himself off my bed and grabbed something off my old bureau. The delicious scent of extra strong coffee filled my nostrils. It was almost enough to get me up and going. I popped open my sharp green eyes and stared at my best friend. He was dressed in jeans and a dark turtleneck. His red hair was neatly combed back, all ready to go.

“What time is it?” I grumbled, taking the coffee thankfully, running my right hand through messy locks.

“Three-fifteen.” Sebastian said promptly, as I set the coffee on my dusty nightstand.

I let out a whine and tossed my face back into my warm pillow.

“I will leave without you, Luce.” His threat was empty.

He left my room to grab himself some breakfast and I muffled into my pillow, “It’s weird that you’re so awake at this ungodly hour!”

His scoff haunted my ears as I grudgingly forced the blankets off me, unleashing the heartless bitch that is living without a fully functioning heater in winter in New York.

I pulled up my wool socks, grabbed a sweatshirt and my coffee and made my way to the bathroom Sebastian and I shared to get ready for the hell that was waiting for me at work today.



There were hundreds upon hundreds of people in the store promptly at five AM and I quit three times that morning. Dick wasn’t having it, though. I was the Christmas elf, spreading super, duper Christmas cheer. Sebastian was the only reason I didn’t claw Dick’s eyes out and wind up with a civil suit and/or jobless.

I questioned myself a dozen times about how someone as antisocial and introverted as me could work in consumer sales. I had to deal with dickheads and morons all day long and with my unhealthy end of the introvert spectrum, I was going to end of shooting up Macy’s by Christmas Eve.

“What is that, your third coffee?” Sebastian asked, plopping into a hard chair next to me in the break room. I had been hiding in here since eight. It was quarter to eleven. Sebastian looked positively exhausted in his ridiculous reindeer costume.

“Damn, son.” I grinned cheekily, “And third and a half. I drank the rest of your coffee this morning.”

He rested his tired head against his furry arms and placed them on the table. “You know when you skip out on your job it makes it even shittier for the rest of us.”

“Good, no one does near enough around here.” I sipped my coffee, knowing Sebastian was a peeved at me. I sighed when he didn’t respond. “Tell you what. Have my break. I’ll cover for you. I’ve got enough super, duper Christmas cheer to bring Jesus back from the fucking dead.”

Sebastian stole my coffee as I took my legs off another chair and stood up, stretching out, trying to prolong the inevitable.

The moment I stepped out the comfy break room, I was bombarded with questions about sales and packaging and gift receipts. I almost crawled back into the break room and slammed the door on their frustrated and shiny faces. They were frustrated? How about working here for two fucking years. Then see what you have to be pissy about, old lady in the cat sweater.

Around noon, the door buster sales scavengers had dissipated, but a whole new crowd of people had come bustling in: sightseers and screaming children.

Dick put me in charge of the Letters to Santa box for two hours. It was a large, red bin with a slit to push stupid letters with sticky hand prints all over, and a plaque that read ‘Letters to Santa’ in gold, swoopy calligraphy.

I plastered the fakest smile I could muster as I dealt with dozens upon dozens of snot-nosed brats, trying to force their letters through first, like a non-existing entity was going to get them anyway. We tossed the letters into the dumpster out back at the end of every day. Santa was most certainly not going to grant their wishes for collectable Barbies and expensive video games.

But, I dealt with it. Mostly because Dick kept checking up on me every five minutes to make sure I didn’t murder any of the little shits. Eventually, the line simmered down and only the occasional kid came up to hand me their letter. Dick had come to relieve me of my duty when this relatively cute, blonde came rushing over with her letter with her name ‘Dory’ in big, sloppy letters.

“Are you excited for Christmas, Dory?” Dick asked, grinning at the tiny girl. She nodded wildly.

“Does Santa Claus really get these letters?” She asked. She was missing her front teeth so it made her whistle a bit with every ‘s’ sound.

“He sure does.” Dick placed the letter in carefully, unlike the ungracious stuffing I had been doing for hours. “And what did you ask for for Christmas, Dory?”

She looked extremely shy all the sudden, clasping her hands and twirling back and forth. “I don’t know if I can tell you. Won’t Santa get mad?”

“No, of course not! Santa and I are great friends.” Dick shook his head, laughing kindly.

“Well, I asked to meet One Direction.” She grinned that toothless smile that probably captivated many soft hearts. I, only the other hand, simply scoffed at her request.

“What are you, six?” I asked. How did she even know about One Direction at her age?

“Seven.” She corrected, pouting.

“Lucy,” Dick warned. I rolled my eyes and looked away, watching Sebastian dance around by Santa’s workshop. “Don’t mind Lucy. She’s from the North Pole and it’s been hard for her to adjust.”

“I’m not—”

“And I have some good news for you, Dory.” Dick cut me off purposefully. “I think Santa just might make your dream come true. You wanna know why?”

Dory nodded her blonde curls excitedly. “Why, Mr.?”

“Because I just got off the phone with the North Pole, and Santa said he’s sending the one and only One Direction here to New York!”

Dory and I screamed at the same time. Hers was out of wild childish excitement. Mine was out of pent up rage. Dick gave me a look and I curtly asked, “Can I go on my break now?”

“Fine, fine,” Dick said quickly, “Just make sure to turn up that super, duper Macy’s spirit afterwards! You’re with Ralph in Santa’s Corner the rest of the shift.”

Dory ran off to tell her mother the exciting news. Dick smiled brightly, going off to greet new customers. I stood frozen in my place by the Letter to Santa bin, dressed as a Christmas elf, wondering why my life sucked so royally.