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Guest Column

Hate that gift? Here's what you do

By BRUCE MICHAUD, Guest Columist
Published January 4, 2008

How to return stuff:

First, determine whether the gift will be missed the next time the giver comes over. If the wife says they will notice, repaint the cars and suggest you are transferring to another state with your company. Change your phone number, and give your kids new names (but not legally, that would be overdoing it). Keep it simple. I went with Barry Bonds for my boy and Hannah Montana for my daughter.

Take the unwanted gift - in my case green see-through plates and glasses - and return them. My mom should have known we have yellow see-through silverware, not green.

Stand in line with confidence. Most return clerks won't accept returns without a receipt unless you look like you are a high-rolling attorney who can read through the return policy. I usually wear my best leisure suit and slick my hair back with a maximum-cement curling gel before going in.

Clerk: We can't accept this back without a receipt! No exceptions, sir!

Me: I'm not returning it, young lady! I never bought it! As far as I'm concerned, you sold this to my mother without the understanding that she had no idea what I wanted, and now I have to restock this even though I have a bad back. Can I speak to the person who sold her this and ask why they felt the urgency to pressure my mother, who was just trying to please me with a new washer and dryer, and suggested I would be happier with this dish set?

Clerk: We are not taking it back, sir! Next!

The next step is to stop by an ATM and take out the $12.95 the store wouldn't return to you and tell the wife you returned it with no problem. If she screams at you for returning your parents' gift, send the dishes to your inlaws and make arrangements to have dinner at their place next weekend.

The followup to make sure the person who gave you the gift won't notice you returned it is the most important step. I drove over to my mom's house to see whether she was using my 6-foot ceramic dog with the hotel room service dish that holds their TV remote.

To my amazement, a guy answered the door with an Abraham Lincoln beard and top hat and told me my parents don't live there anymore. I scratched my head through my cemented curly hair, wondering what the chances were of people moving into my parents' house with the same cars, just different colors. I thought I saw their dog Rover standing behind the man who now lives there. But he insisted the dog's name was Peyton Manning, and it suddenly had a little white beard.

I went home, and my wife said her parents got my belated present today. I was sad to hear we weren't having dinner with them the following weekend because her father was transferring with his company. I was unaware they transfer you after you retire.

Freelance writer Bruce Michaud lives in Odessa.

[Last modified January 3, 2008, 23:16:32]