Airport Mistletoe


It was the beginning of December. The trip had gone reasonably well, and he

was ready to go back. The airport on the other hand had turned a tacky red

and

green, and loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished

Christmas carols.



Being someone who took Christmas very seriously, and being slightly tired,

he was not in a particularly good mood.



Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason, had become one

suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw hanging mistletoe. Not real

mistletoe,

but very cheap plastic with red paint on some of the rounder parts and green

paint on some of the flatter and "pointier" parts, that could be taken for

mistletoe only in a very Picasso sort of way.



With a considerable degree of irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he

said to the lady attendant, "Even if I were not married, I would not want to

kiss

you under such a ghastly mockery of mistletoe."



"Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is."



(pause)



"Ok, I see that it's above the luggage scale, which is the place you'd have

to step forward for a kiss."



"That's not why it's there."



(pause)



"Ok, I give up. Why is it there?"



"It's there so you can kiss your luggage goodbye."




May you have the gladness of Christmas
which is hope; the spirit of Christmas which
is peace; the heart of Christmas which is love.
-Sylvia
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