Is Christmas the time for hopeless romantic Alan to wake up?
I called Donna around three, just after I’d arrived at my California hotel room, but got her answering machine.
“Hi,” came her as ever-bubbly greeting. “This is Donna. Sorry I can’t take your call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
After the beep I left my message.
“The eagle has landed,” I said. Feeling pleased with my choice of words, I hung up and went downstairs to the hotel lounge.
“Season’s greetings,” said the pretty girl behind the bar as I sat down and pulled my stool in close.
“I think you mean Merry Christmas.” I smiled at her.
“No,” she answered emphatically. “I meant what I said.”
“So what’s wrong with Christmas? Today is December the twenty-fifth, 1991, last time I checked.”
“Nothing,” she said. “Except that you might be Jewish or Muslim, when the day would have no special significance whatsoever.”
“But I’m neither,” I protested.
“Then in that case…” She smiled sweetly. “Merry Christmas!”
I shook my head in amusement.
“Sometimes I think this political correctness has gone a bit overboard.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But when tips make up most of your income that is supposed to support you through medical school, it doesn’t pay to risk offending anyone.”
I looked at the name badge that was pinned to her blouse.
“OK, Toni,” I said. “Then… the compliments of the season to you too.”
“See – you’re learning.” She grinned mischievously.
“You’re a medical student, then.”
“In my final year,” she said proudly. “Are you English?”
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7 æ¥éã® Magzter GOLD ç¡æãã©ã€ã¢ã«ãéå§ããŠãäœåãã®å³éžããããã¬ãã¢ã ã¹ããŒãªãŒã9,000 以äžã®éèªãæ°èã«ã¢ã¯ã»ã¹ããŠãã ããã
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