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Letters to the reader from 12/20/06

Dear Jim Casey’s, Hurry back . Saturday nights in Columbia after 2 a.m. just haven’t been the same without you. The whole of the social strata was represented in your cavernous basement bar. Where else could you see drunken sorority girls and attorneys partying alongside the stringy blonde Rosewood tweaker types that you see riding a child’s bicycle from their meth trailer to the convenience store? We look forward to the day that you rise from the ashes like a sketchy phoenix. Columbia City Paper

Dear Mall Santas, You guys are the unsung heroes of the season. While the real Santa and his elves are busy putting the finishing touches on everything, you guys contract out to make appearances in his place. There must be some kind of union contract? And while the big man gets his lists as hardcopy letters, y’all have to memorize each kid’s list and, what, phone them in from the phone booths near the Food Court? Santa gets magic eggnog and a flying sleigh, while you guys putter home in rusted Chevettes with bottles of peach Schnapps. Well, City Paper salutes you, mall Santas. …And, hey, put in a good word for us, will you? Columbia City Paper

Dear Uncle Barney, I think I smell a regift here. And it’s not just the scent of the home body wax kit you gave me. For one, the model on the package is leaning on an ‘85 Camaro. Not to mention the Richway gift bag ; that department store chain has been closed for like 15 years. But, hey, it’s the thought that counts. When I clean out my garage this spring, I’ll be sure to save something nice for you for Christmas. Columbia City Paper

Dear Recycling Guy, You fill every Thursday morning with comedy, your loud curses rivaling the clanging of the empty glass bottles that you sling angrily into your truck. “Goddamn! You drink this much, you got a problem!” That’s right… filled two bins again. This business takes it toll, man. Columbia City Paper

Dear Heart Broken at Christmas, Most sociopathic partners will smile their way through Christmas so as not to rock the boat, only to dump your trifling butt on December 27th to give them time to find a cute date for the New Years Eve parties. For those sad sacks who got dumped before the holidays, City Paper would like to suggest a few great country songs to help you along. While the rest of your family revels in holiday cheer, take a decanter of Scotch into a dark guest room and turn up the stereo to drown out your weeping so as not to ruin everyone else’s Christmas too. Start off with the seminal classic, “I Bought the Shoes That Just Walked Out on Me.” Follow up with “Goin’ Through the Big D, and I Don’t Mean Dallas.” Balance that out with some George Jones before moving on to “I’m Drinking Christmas Dinner (All Alone This Year).” Cut the lights, pass out fully clothed in a fetal position, repeat for six months or so and you’ll be as good as new. Columbia City Paper