Christmas Memories - Uisce

Rules: '..post a comment here on my blog with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL CHRISTMAS MEMORY of you and me. It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.'
You can find all 28 memories here.
It was an idea I picked up from Oldoldlady.
And then I made it bigger!

At my Crazie Christmas Party the other night, without telling them what it was for, I had each adult give me a number between 1 and 28.
So there are 6 memories!

and so to number 21.....

Uisce said...
I just stopped by to wish you a Merry Christmas! And boy, does that bring back memories. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Oh, but it was so many yesterdays ago.
I was finishing up my shift on Christmas Eve at the 7-Eleven in your neighborhood. You had come in to buy a cold bottle of Chablis, some scratch off cards, and couple packages of twinkies. I remember taking your money and giving you your change, which you stuffed in your pocket on your way out of the store.
It was just a few minutes later that I noticed it -- you had left your handbag behind. It was close to midnight and I was still in the store by myself, so I needed to wait for my replacement to arrive. In the meantime, I looked through the bag for clues to its owner's identity. There was a hairbrush -- that might come in handy if we needed to do any DNA searches, I joked to myself. And there it was, a wallet! I jotted down the address from the driver's license -- nice picture, I remember thinking -- and put the wallet back into the purse.
Just a minute later, the late shift arrived and it was time for me to go home. "Tag, you're it," I told him. "And Merry Christmas!" He grumbled something about the fact that it was just a few minutes before Christmas and he was stuck working. "I'm going to take off," I told him. "A woman left this handbag and I need to return it."
I left the store and got in my car. I took a look at the address and hoped I wouldn't have any trouble finding the place. I knew the street, and I'd probably driven by a hundred times. I was hoping you would be there, and not scouring the city in search of the handbag in my possession!
I arrived at the address I was looking for and knocked on the door. Nothing. Rats, I thought. What was I going to do?
"Hey," I heard from the street. You were getting out of a taxi and walking toward your door. "What are you doing with my..."
"Hi," I told you. "Remember me? Uisce from the 7-Eleven. I sold you that bottle of Chablis you're carrying."
"Of course I remember you. Thank you so much for tracking me down," you told me. "Won't you come inside?"
"Well, I don't want to intrude," I told you.
"Nonsense," you said. And remember how you tugged on my sleeve? I followed you into the apartment. "Just come in and have some of this wine."
"But isn't that for some special occasion?" I asked. "Aren't you on your way to a Christmas party or something?"
"Of course," you said with a smile. And you looked up. Mistletoe. You were puckered up and waiting for something. I gave you a kiss on your cheek and you just started giggling.
You took the bottle of wine and the twinkies out of the bag and handed the bottle to me. I opened it while you retrieved some glasses from the kitchen. I poured us each a bit of the wine. Remember how the glasses made that magical sound when we clinked them together? You sat down on the couch and I sat down on the chair beside it.
I remember how we talked and talked for hours and hours. When it was time to leave, I told you how glad I was that we had met. I remarked how lucky we were that the fates had brought us together. I couldn't know then, could I, that it would be the beginning of such a wonderful friendship.
"Fate?" you replied. "Why do you think I left my handbag in your store?"
I gave you a big hug. Maybe it hadn't been a Christmas miracle, but it is one of my favorite Christmas memories.

This is one of my sweetest Christmas memories! :-)

Uisce has pretty much told the whole story, but not from my perspective.
I was alone that Christmas, in a strange new town and far from my family and friends. Everyone had told me that new job would be a brilliant opportunity, but had neglected to remind me of the loneliness of the one-bed apartment!
On Christmas Eve I dressed up in my finery (well, it was something to do) and then realised I had no wine. I popped my best coat on, wound my deep purple scarf around my neck, picked up my best purple handbag and trundled off to the local 7/Eleven.
While cruising the shelves I noticed the man behind the counter. He was about my age and had the kindest face I had seen in a long time. He was serving a little old lady. I watched him help her sort her money, put her groceries in a bag and then see her out the door, keeping up a constant stream of cheerful chatter. What a man!
I grabbed a handful of Twinkies and made my way to the counter.
'These - and two scratch cards, please,' I said.
The nice man smiled and pulled two cards off the roller.
'Oh, and a bottle of that Chablis,' I added. He grinned and fished out a bottle, wiping the store dust off it. He packed up my sad groceries, whilst talking about the weather, Christmas, his wife, everything. The man could talk for the US! I was absolutely bowled over.
I gave him a twenty and he made change. As I caught his eye I blushed and, jamming my change in my coat pocket, I rushed from the store clutching my bag of groceries.

'Fool!' I admonished myself as I strode away from the store. 'He's going to think you're an absolute idiot! Smiling at him like a lovesick teenager!' I could be really hard on myself when I wanted to. I fished for my keys and suddenly realised I had left my handbag at the store. Muttering to myself, I debated what to do.
Obviously, I couldn't go back! I couldn't look that lovely kind man in the face again. So I pounded the streets, thinking what to do.
As I passed by my apartment block for about the sixth time, a car pulled up. Out hopped that lovely man - with my handbag.
The rest, as they say, is history. That lovely man, Uisce, is now a dear friend of mine and he and Wifey come over regularly for meals. I'm not lonely any more.

Oh, one more thing? I didn't tell him I left the bag in the store by accident in my embarrassment. It'll be our little secret, ok?

cq

handbag by http://www.e-jules.com/