Each kitchen has a few chairs and a couple of tables. People leave stuff
they want people to eat, or don't want, or wish people to buy. It's like the
sidewalk outside of a urban apartments, but instead of old couches and
wicker hampers, we have cupcakes, knick-knacks, fruit, Girl Scout Cookies or
The World's Best Chocolate Bars (which are not) for sale so that someone's
child can take a group trip to bang a bass drum unenthusiastically while
sweating in a hand-me-down polyester uniform under the asphalt hot Anaheim
sun during the Holiday Excitement Days Bands on Parade at Disneyland.
Perhaps the $2.00 you pay for waxy, chalky chocolate subsidizes an illicit,
unchaperoned adolescent sexual experience for that child with a fellow band
member. You have helped a tween or teen have some sort of major life event
as well as and newly found sense of accomplishment or shame ((or both).
In any case, today's gifts are sculptural in nature. Christmas ornaments, I