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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Comedy · #2197541
Second guessing is a hard bet to win. Enough was enough.
The thing about Mabel Crancey’s birthday is that you never knew which one was really hers. She celebrated one on Facebook another on WdC, a third on Instagram, a fourth on Youtube, and the list went on. She took her privacy seriously.

But? She accepted gifts, tribute, and accolades on each and every date so as not to seem to snub anyone’s gracious offering. Some might call that greed. Mabel rationalized it into the idea of being popular and well-remembered for the gracious gift-giving person she was. Mabel always remembered other's birthdays being as important as all of hers were.

None of us were surprised when on our own special date we received back from her an unopened gift with her name attached as a receiver instead of the sender.

This happened just frequently enough to make one wonder. Mabel could be disorganized, forgetful, and cheap. If she happened to notice your name on something in the piles filling up her basement, she figured she'd got her in and out stacks mixed up and it was something for instead of from you.

At other times when opening gifts, she put them aside to send back to the original owner. Her thought was this. 'X' (insert name), must really like this because they chose it for me. It is just the thing they need. That is just how cheap Mabel could be.

This caught the occasional embarrassed laugh as the present was opened, recognized as one purchased for the exact opposite purpose, meant to to be cherished by Mabel forever, and sent back a second time hoping this time it would stick.

Tales floundered amongst each other of less propitious glee. Revenge was in all of these forms of returning gifts along with other contents better not mentioned to virgin ears. Trick or treat became a matter of who could devise and crow about the biggest trick to treat Mabel with.

Her ire grew at receiving such novel attempts at ill-advised devilish plan. Like a bad disease this morphed into a massive attack last Christmas, her true birthday found out by a devious mind who worked at the drivers' license bureau. Her tarnished image (they never look good in such a mug shot), true age, and date of actual birth flashed around social media like wildfire to the delight of all.

It was a broken and repentant Mabel Crancey professing a sudden devotion to ‘Simple Living’ and one last giant garage sale open to all comers before she moved into her ‘Tiny House’ the size of a postage stamp.

The last anyone heard she had changed her name, worked as a humble greeter at Walmart. Mabel devoted her free time and life to creating Hallmark Birthday Cards with beautiful, wishful sayings. All are inspired by the tons she’d kept hidden and received in the height of her glory.

A good gig is hard to leave behind entirely once found, the addiction is too great. The good news is she turned her mad life around and made a good thing out of all the craziness she created. She is leader of her Birthday's Anonymous group. Hearing her speak with a strange light glowing in her eyes at such meetings has saved many a wayward soul.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197541