Dirty Christmas

Around 7 am this morning, Christmas Eve, I found myself standing in a pool of oil underneath an elevator. As I am a repair technician, this sort of disgusting disaster happens from time to time. As for this particular day, it was not the gnarliest pond I’ve ever dove into without my floaties but it was big enough that I could have snorkeled a bit and had my very own “Hunt for Red October” reenactment as I spun shut off valves and sprayed myself with oil. There amidst the sloshing oil and curse words I spotted something shiny on the pit floor. I rolled up my sleeves, held my breath, pinched my nose and flopped in there to retrieve the glorious splendor that awaits in the bowels of a 5 star hotel elevator pit.

“What could it be?” I dreamed as my hand glided across the décolleté wasteland of oily concrete.

Maybe it’s jewelry! Or a small strange shaped foreign currency that will make me rich?!

As it neared the surface my anticipation quickly turned to disappointment.

There I was, standing in a mess of shit on Christmas Eve… Holding… A crack pipe.

This was not what I was hoping for when I suited up in search of treasure, but par for the course.

I spent the next hour slipping and sloshing through the oil at the bottom of this concrete and steel hell while my treasure lay there in my dirty dustpan awaiting it’s safe deposit into the dumpster.

Drenched, filthy, and my arm hair glowing vibrantly from the shine of the oil I climbed out of the pit, grabbed my dustpan, and reached for the trash can. Just about this time, a well dressed younger mom stumbled around the corner in hopes of piloting the elevator to her destination. She was lightly pulling along a 2 foot tall child who was clearly mid tantrum as they approached me.

The lil Devils eyes full of tears and upper lip curled tight as she tugged at his arm while he clenched her skin in frustration. Startled by the elevator pit exposed and a daring gentleman covered head to toe in oil, grime and all sorts of slime; she cautiously said, “Oh look how interesting”.

A fruitless attempt to distract the tyrant from his rampage.

“NOoooo!” He screamed as he attempted to escape her grasp. I laughed a bit. And uttered some sort of greeting as the little bastard yelled.

“I’m sorry, he’s having a rough day”. She responded calmly.

“No no no mom!!! NOooo talking to DIRTY strangers!!!!

Immediately I wondered if he’d spotted the crack pipe…

I then followed his hollering up with a hearty “BAH HumBug!!

Mom and I started laughing out loud… And he began crying.

The end