Self Scan Elf Can

Letter:  Chester Elf to Claus, Mr.

I bid you good day, Santa.  It’s been but too long since you've ventured south and in the world yourself.  It was good of you to send me ahead and I thank you greatly for the opportunity to thusly scout opportunities on your behalf.   It seems that I’m in bit of a quandary at the moment as I've discovered a wonderful new product, in name it is referenced as The Elf Can.  It is but too unique to describe in words and as such I shan't attempt it.  In my eagerness to try some new inventions I see about me, I have attempted to use and odd method of cashier called “Self Scan.”

The manner of its behaviour is not as expected as I placed the “Elf Can” upon it and nothing happened.  I’m not terribly certain to what the “Self” refers as the Elf Can doth not “self-scan.”  I see no eyes upon it, nor do they appear at the “Self Scan” device.  Further, there be no eyes upon the Self scan device and I fail to comprehend the purpose of a machine that would merely self-scan when it is the aid of a cashier for which I have need. 

It would seem that letters of credit are also no longer accepted, for I approached an oddly uniformed woman who explained that there are but three companies for whom they accept letters of credit in the form of little plastic (she called it plastic) pieces.  These companies are Master Card, Visa, and American Express.  As for the second, I was quite unaware that the border services were in issue of letters of credit, but indeed it has been a long time since my last travel southward.  Unfortunately, I seem to be at a loss for a proper means of communication and thusly I have attached this note via your faithful reindeer Dasher in the hope that it will reach you promptly and he not find a cool meadow of alfalfa upon which to graze an thus lose precious time.  I do wish there were a more convenient means of communication.  This brings me to another observation I've made of the children I've seen as of late in my travel here.

    Children in this time all seem to have little boxes they hold in their hands and obsess over ceaselessly.  It would seem as though they've given up conversation in lieu of something called, “texting.”  Here and there one will see these young people flitting away with their digits upon the box and responding as if the box doth talk back.  I asked one such youngster what it was doing and was promptly told, “texting” in a seeming air of contempt.  Upon further research, I found that there are several rules, even laws regarding this activity of “texting.”  Though it illegal to engage in this activity whilst in operation of their mechanical carriages (You've just GOT to see these contraptions), yet do they this even to their own peril.  I quite suggest refraining from the use of these little boxes as gifts until a child should gain the age of majority and perhaps additionally a spark of wisdom doth ignite in its youthful, hormone addled, mind. 

I fear I have digressed much, and I shall get quickly to the point.  I am presently in need of one of these special letters of credit – I think someone just called it a, “credit card.”  (helpful, albeit rude some of these people be.  I am stuck at this blasted contraption and they've no sympathy for my situation.  Some little tart did call out the letters, O-M-G, as if this were some manner of instruction.  Clearly, this be not the case as there were no such label or reference upon this infernal device.  I really can’t abide the distortion of the language – it seems all too foreign to me.)  At any rate, would you be so kind as to procure one of these “Credit Cards” for me so as I might finish my transaction here.  As much as the shopkeeper did assure me his establishment operates round the clock (Seems like a folly to do such a thing.  Doth he not sleep? Or perhaps he be more like the undead and sleep no longer a part of his bodily need be) so as I may complete my transaction before the natives grow more restless than presently.

Yours truly,

Chester Elf.