A SANTA hat teamed with hi-viz on a worker down the council recycling centre unaccountably fails to lift the spirit. As it does on these other occasions:
On a Big Issue seller you feel even more guilty for ignoring than usual
On a retail employee for whom this period is a hell where every key change of I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day is embossed upon her brain
On your grandfather in a care home who hated Christmas but no longer has the strength to fight
On your partner asleep in the front room after vomiting lavishly in the downstairs toilet, unable to explain where it came from or how he got home
On your child, crying with disappointment because this was all they got in the lucky dip at the Christmas Fayre which you subsidised to the tune of about £60
On somebody’s f**king Staffy straining at its lead to bite while the owner explains she’s never like this
In blue-and-white varieties on Man City and Everton fans for who the very existence of the colour red is a grievous insult inciting violence
On a grim-faced manager demanding extra work from everyone because there’s only a fortnight until end-of-year results
On a grim-faced manager at the North Pole demanding extra work from all his elves because there’s only a fortnight until Christmas Eve
On the staff at your work canteen dishing up dry turkey and bullet sprouts for the mandatory Christmas lunch
On a hammered bloke down the pub clearly up for a fight in the car park
On a barmaid serving the far-too-pissed, clearly counting the minutes until her shift ends
On a scowling girl on a night out with her friends who has had the hat removed by drunk blokes as an overture to romantic advances once too f**king often
On your own reflection in the mirror as you try to sober up, wishing the pisshead colleagues you’re with would agree to a taxi home
On the bloke you’ve just kissed in a desperate attempt to stop him droning on in the pub
On the bloke you’ve just snogged outside the club when you realise how ropey he looks
On your bedroom floor when you wake up wondering who the f**k this guy who stinks of gin snoring next to you is
On Instagram, where your fumbles with the bloke have been thoroughly documented by your colleagues who apparently weren’t as pissed as you thought
