Don't Get Me Anything

“Getting to be near that time again.”
“Don’t get me anything–”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“–because it just makes it awkward when–
“Seriously, wasn’t gonna.”
“–you have something for me and I don’t–wait, what?”
“We went over this last year. You said don’t get you something. I didn’t believe you. I got you something. You didn’t get me anything. It was awkward. Won’t happen again.”
“Oh. Okay, you sure?”
“What is it?”
“What’s what?”
“What did you get me this year, in case I got you something, so you didn’t look like an asshole?”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“The scarf?”
“I didn’t get you anything, I swear.”
“Oh, it’s bigger than the scarf, isn’t it?”
“Nothing. I didn’t get you anything. You told me not to. I believe you this year.”
“Oooh, way bigger than the scarf.”
“It’s not anything!”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I fucking say so!”
“You don’t need to get all freaked out about it.”
“I’m not freaked out. I just didn’t get you anything!”
“If you’re not freaked out, you should probably stop shouting.”
“…I hate you right now.”
“No you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Don’t get me anything.”
Now I do.”

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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