Present tense

Let the Stingy Elf solve the office-gift-grab dilemma

by David Valdes Greenwood

Illustrations by Tony Millionaire

When it comes time for the office gift swap -- that dreaded ritual that adds unnecessary stress to an already stressful time of year -- nobody wants to look bad by giving a cheesy gift (yes, that means no Chia Pets). But who really wants to spend a lot of money on the guy from three cubicles down just because a memo has ordered you to? The cheery folks who plan these little "secret Santa" or "Yankee gift swap" events never seem to consider that everyone is already broke this time of year without that added burden.

Enter the Stingy Elf. Like a good valet, he finds gifts for you. And like a great accountant, he cuts corners to keep it painless. Best of all, the Stingy Elf is a witty fellow, skilled at matching gifts to office temperaments. He chooses carefully so as not to be too obvious, which allows the giver a certain smirky satisfaction -- while the recipients remain blissfully unaware that each gift is an icon representing their trademark quirks. Just scan through the office types below, and voilà! The Stingy Elf will provide you with a gift option for around $20 or less that makes you look good, even as you subvert the system.

1) The Supply Hog. Every office has that one person who cannot get enough of the supply closet. This pack rat's desk drawers are jammed with staples, paper clips, yellow pads, color-coded Post-it notes -- you name it. And he is ever prone to paranoia that someone has been using his supplies. This person needs fancy paper clips from Selletto (244 Newbury Street, Boston, 617-424-0656). If he's the stylish sort, give him a jar of Italian paper clips, shiny circular clips the size of a quarter, packaged appropriately in round metal tins ($7). Or, if he's prone to whimsy, Critter Clips are good; they're large metal clips shaped like 3-D spiders, dragonflies, and butterflies ($2.50 each). Best of all, the recipient will never have to wonder whether someone has taken his paper clips -- no one else in the office will have anything like them.

2) The Victim. This is the intern who just knows she is hated by the boss and can't imagine why, poor thing. (She didn't mean to break the copier, and anyone could have lost the call from Hong Kong, and what's wrong with wearing a halter top to work?) She's sure that someday someone will understand her for the gifted individual she is; in the meantime, she needs an amusing book. Specifically, she needs Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, by Gregory Maguire (Regan Books, $24). In the spirit of his bestseller Wicked (which tells the Oz story from the evil witch's point of view), Maguire champions the plight of Cinderella's poor misunderstood stepsister, a soul mate for the tortured office temp if ever there was one. And Maguire is a witty guy, so if you're lucky, you might just get a smile out of that intern for a change.

3) Mr. Secret. This is the guy who never goes out for a drink after work, never engages in office gossip, and wears that guarded smile that makes you slightly nervous. Unfailingly pleasant and ever- watchful, he doesn't have any photos on his desk and takes no outside calls. When he makes a call, he shuts his door, and every drawer on his desk is booby-trapped. Of course, it's his right to be so private -- but admit it, it creeps you out. He needs an unusual lock. At Shambala Tibet (270 Newbury Street, Boston, 617-437-0436), pick up a puzzle lock ($19) in the shape of an animal (gazelle, dog, crab) or a Hindu deity. Made of brass, these locks look like anything but locks; they feature interlocking pieces and keys that appear to be part of the creature. If Mr. Secret is going to protect himself from prying eyes, he might as well do it with style.

4) The Mooch. When you go out for an office party, he always begs off, protesting that he has no money, until some kind soul (see the Angel Fanatic) offers to spot him "for now." ("For now," of course, seems to extend indefinitely for the Mooch.) In the office, he's almost magically adept at materializing around the cubicle where Chinese food has just been delivered. But he's so chatty and charming that everyone plays along, and the last slice of pizza in any box is his by default. Clearly, he deserves a trick fork. At Restoration Hardware (711 Boylston Street, Boston, 617-578-0088), amid the more upscale items, you'll find the Telescopic Fork-It-Over ($4.50), which looks, at first glance, like a cheap silver fork. But this baby extends 18 inches, so you can reach across a table and snag morsels from other people's plates (or, in the Mooch's case, other people's cubicles) before they even notice. The recipient will get the message, perhaps. But, out of fairness, he'll have to be a good sport -- after all, you can't bite the hand that feeds you.

5) The Angel Fanatic. From her Precious Moments figurines to the isn't-it-darling angel stickpin on her lapel, this dear soul lives life constantly Touched by an Angel. You could go to just about any card store and find something right up her alley, but then you'd be stuck seeing your cheap find every time you passed her desk. (Angel people like to keep as many angels in sight as they can -- it's comforting.) So aim a little higher and dress up her desk with a handmade angel. At Mayan Weavers (268 Newbury Street, Boston, 617-262-4342), you have a number of options made by indigenous craftspeople from across Central and South America, but I'd suggest the Guatemalan angels ($15), miniature handmade and hand-painted clay dolls. These dark-haired, brown-skinned angels are dressed in colorful robes and appear to be playing native instruments, a much more interesting vision than another blond cherub with a harp. The recipient will be thrilled -- more evidence that angels are indeed everywhere.

6) Wacky Wanda. Every office needs a woman like this: able to wear things no one else would dare, prone to showing up with a funky wig or a haircut that looks like a wig, and given to collecting cool memorabilia or where-did-she-get-that tchotchkes. This gal is a blast to buy for, but the only danger is buying something boring. Bless her, she'll try to love a pad of stationery, but you can do better: a cool lunchbox. At Buckaroo's Mercantile (858 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617-864-3637), the lunchbox assortment is a wellspring of real and faux nostalgia. I'd suggest the pink '50s box ($9), with a Cleaveresque mom getting all jazzed about electricity -- the kind of dippy treasure only your wacky office mate could appreciate.

7) The Cat Person. What is it about cat lovers that makes them more likely than any other animal owners to decorate their office cubes with pet memorabilia? Cat calendars, kitty photos, and little plaques with witty epigrams about feline behavior abound. You can both support this person and subliminally make a statement by purchasing a cat mug. The Spademan animal cups ($20) at Dona Flora (246 Newbury Street, Boston, 617-266-0720) are plain white on the outside, the very model of refinement. But inside is a surprise: an itty-bitty kitty peeks up from the bottom of each cup. With every sip of herbal tea, the inch-tall cat emerges, until the last drop is gone and only the puss remains. Your recipient will be just thrilled, gulping like mad to make the cat appear, but you won't be able to see it -- from the outside there will be no trace of cat fancy at all. Purr-fect.

8) The Boss. Whether you work for a saint or an ogre, you have to make sure your gift doesn't look too begrudging, yet also doesn't make you look obsequious and fawning. This is a case where sticking to established precedents is best: expensive chocolates. Head straight for L.A. Burdick's (52 Brattle Street, Cambridge, 617-491-4340) and have them box up some handmade chocolate mice ($2 each). With almond ears and silk tails, they're almost too cute to eat, but the rich chocolate and creamy fillings (dark chocolate with orange; white chocolate with cinnamon; milk chocolate with mocha) make them impossible to resist. And this gift can send any message you want: if your boss is great, it's a sweet sentiment; if not, it's a box of rodents. Either way, it will be in good taste.