Dear Santa:
Greetings, my friend in red. Hope
this missive finds you and yours in fine form. With all this talk of global
warming, I worry that Donner and Blitzen are applying Coppertone while Dasher
and Dancer compete to craft the perfect cannonball in the deep end. (If you’re
a regular viewer of “Fox and Friends,” then please accept my apology. I don’t
intend to offend.)
It’s true I haven’t written since
last year and it seems I reach out only when I want something, but I imagine
that’s simply business as usual in your line of work. So, let me get straight
to the point: I’m only asking for one thing this year, but it’s a doozy. (Yes,
Kris, you’re probably thinking “Why can’t she be content with another Chia Pet?”
But until they come up with the Chia Cthulhu, please no more ceramic weed
farms.)
I’ve decided to go for broke this
year. My first thought was to ask for a shopping spree at a Pucci boutique. A
new wardrobe of gorgeous abstract prints and fine fabrics would be just the
ticket for a vacation at a Venetian villa. (You could throw that in, too,
right?) But that seemed a little too pedestrian.
Then I considered asking you for
a week at the Four Seasons Bora Bora, an all-expenses paid, once-in-a lifetime
trip with my significant other and 10 of my dearest friends. Each of us could
have our own villa over the turquoise waters. How divine! Then I imagined
running into Justin Bieber au natural
and I felt as queasy as the time I competed in that corn dog eating contest.
Ick.
Then I thought: wouldn’t it be heavenly
to rent out the Hollywood Bowl and have Kate Bush perform all her tracks from “Hounds
of Love” and “The Dreaming”? The audience would consist of just me, my husband
and our two kitties sitting in La-Z-Boy recliners on the stage right next to
Her Royal Kateness. Oh, and Weird Al Yankovik could be the opening act!
But then I thought, no, I’m going
to swing for the fences this Christmas. I’m going to ask for something so
spectacular, so marvelous, so blow-the-doors-off incredible that my friends
will be simply chartreuse with envy.
That’s right, Santa: I want a
ride with Uber.
But wait, please, before you
crumple up my letter and use it to wipe the reindeer doo-doo off your boots;
please just hear me out! If Uber – or Lyft or any smart phone-booked ride
service – can provide rides to the non-disabled, they can do it for wheelchair
users, right?
It’s an eleventy-bajillion dollar
business, so surely they can have drivers in every major market with
wheelchair-lift vans, can’t they? These titans of industry can be convinced
that disenfranchising an entire segment of society is not just illegal but
morally wrong?
Please, Santa, tell me I’ll
someday be able to book a ride on Uber with the same ease and speed as anyone
else!
Ok, I’ll settle for a ride in
your sleigh. Sure beats seeing the Biebs nekkid.
No comments:
Post a Comment