Unique Corporate Gift Baskets

Some days you’re the windshield, some days you’re the bug. The day I received one of those corporate gift baskets from my coworkers with an all-expenses paid trip to a Canadian treehouse, I’d been the bug all day. But after checking the corporate gifts website to find out when I could leave, baby, I was the windshield.

I guess I should pause here and tell you who I am. My name’s Peter, last name’s King. Yep—when you put that together you get Peter King. I’ve been the butt of jokes my entire life. I’ve worked for everyone. I mean everyone. I spent my early 20s as the guy that scrapes the gum off of seats at the theater. What fun! I spent two years sewing strips of pearly ribbon on tutus for the senile and elderly. And, before I landed in my current career, I fried hushpuppies for a street vendor. Somewhere along the lines, I got in good with corporate gift companies. I became the chief marketer for the company that specializes in corporate gifts for strange employees.

You know, for the longest time, I’ve thought that corporate gifts for clients involved only food. Boy was I ever wrong. I’m not sure why they gave me a treehouse vacay that day or how they knew that is just what I needed, but my outlook is new, my breath feels purposeful, and I’m never looking back again, even if I do have a dumb name. Today, as I make my way back home on the plane from Canada and that magical treehouse, I‘m going back to LA with a newfound perspective on life: Custom corporate gifts can be all-out life changing. I’m walking proof of that fact. I don’t think I could ever be more grateful than I am right now to be sitting right here, looking at my life ahead.

“Sup, man. Can you take the long way around?” I say to the Uber driver when he picks me up at the airport. “I’ve got to pick up one of those unique corporate gift baskets over on Bellevue on the way.” I climb into the front seat beside him. He gives me an odd look, and it’s then that I realize the man has one tooth and an eyepatch. He grips the steering wheel with what appears to be a hook in place of a hand.

Crap, I may need more than unique corporate gifts after this ride is over.

“You thick-headed or something?” Patchy Pirate asks me from just a few feet away. Maybe it was a bad idea to call shotgun instead of climbing in the back seat like a normal man. I just thought that two perfect strangers could build some kind of kinship by riding together like they knew each other.

“Neigh, not thick-headed, Sir. Just prefer to ride along up front so I can carry on a conversation with the people responsible for keeping me alive during a road trip.”

He nods, but still eyes me suspiciously. I can’t help but notice when he sets his phone in the cupholder that he’s been searching for “corporate gifts near me that work well for parrot owners” on his phone. If Patchy is into unique gift baskets, maybe he’s not as bad as he seems.

Two hours later, we’re stuck in traffic as far as the eye can see, boiling hot in the LA sun, and cackling with laughter as we sing along to Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack songs. I have to say, my impression of Jack Sparrow is damn good, and Patchy (aka Larry), I’ve never seen a one-armed, one-eyed man do a better impression of Winona Ryder.

I don’t think I’ve ever been bummed to say goodbye to an Uber driver, but when Patchy drove away, leaving me on the curb in front of my apartment, I got a little misty eyed when he waved at me with that hook. I made a mental note to see what I could find as far as luxury corporate gifts for parrot owners as soon as I could.

I notice a box sitting on my doorstep, and, at first, I’m a little apprehensive. I mean, no one ever really sends me anything to my address. Well, except those luxury corporate gift baskets I always send to myself.

When I pop open the box, I find it stacked to the brim with letters detailing all the best luxury gift baskets that I’d created over the years. If Patchy left me misty eyed, this box of letters from my co-workers would leave me a blubbering, weeping fool.

They knew luxury gift baskets were my thing. One word comes to mind while I sit on my sofa with a glass of bubble tea in hand: supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

I have a question. I mean seriously think about this. If you knew a guy that was into creating the best corporate gift baskets, what would you do for him to make him happy?

I'll tell you what you should do because I’ve been there. You should make up stories about the best gift baskets and send them to the guy while he is away on a treehouse escape to get his priorities in line.

I’ll tell you a little secret about myself. Earlier I mentioned that the day I received those amazing corporate gifts and a treehouse getaway that I felt like the bug.

Well, you see, when you are addicted to bottled water, can’t fall asleep without Brothers Osborne ringing out your favorite song, and have to speak to your Aunt Sue every day to prevent panic attacks, you feel very small. Like life is always smacking you in the forehead and leaving you with your entrails streaming wind-guided across a piece of glass so the people closest to you see everything.

Maybe that’s why I gravitated toward the best corporate gifting companies. I don’t know, really. But I guess there is something about making other people feel good that does me some good.

I used to think I was the only weird person in the world. Now I know better.

I’ll never forget the day I found my supervisor Misha in a bathroom stall at work in a fetal position on top of the toilet lid. He stammered about the custom corporate gift baskets causing him great distress.

“This is the only way I can feel better. I have to sit here like this and think about corporate gifts delivered to good people like me,” he’d said when he finally calmed down.

There was also the day I caught Ryana from accounting drinking coffee from a baby bottle in her cubicle. When she realized I had actually heard her suckling and saw her stash the bottle in her drawer when I walked up, she was devastatingly embarrassed, but I understood. I’d been there too. She was so stressed about picking the least expensive ribbons for the gourmet gift baskets, she had to find a way to cope. I don’t think I’d ever sympathized with anyone more.

There’s a thing about branded corporate gifts and this industry that people just don’t get. We’re all a little lackluster on the surface, but inside, we’re stitched together with coffee breaks from a baby bottle, fetal self-soothing on a toilet seat, and our Aunt Sues. We all deserve something great like a treehouse in Canada.

When I arrive back at the office, grinning and carrying a dozen personalized corporate gifts in my briefcase, I’m ecstatic. I’m greeted at the security gate by Misha, who you can’t miss because of his “Buy corporate gift baskets near me” bumper sticker plastered on the backside of his 57 Chevy.

I can’t believe my luck when I catch the sight of Patchy Pirate hauling Ryana into work. You may not believe it, but she is right in the front seat with him, bottle full of coffee in hand.

“Dude, you got a gift basket delivery near me or something?” I yell out the window at him, a goofy smile plastered on my face.

Patchy waves that darned hook at me like he’s just seen his long-lost best friend. “Nah, my friend. This nice lady here needed some ideas on corporate gift ideas for employees, and I told her Cap’n Larry was the guy to have on the way to work.”

A year after my treehouse getaway, after creating some of the best corporate gift baskets with logo emblems for the company, I’ve managed to save just enough. I’ve got big plans.

Corporate holiday gift baskets can be made anywhere, even in a treehouse. I believe no one deserves corporate gifting companies in USA-style like those Canadians, so I’m buying a treehouse right in Quebec. I’m moving my team up there—they’ve all agreed.

The true corporate gifts meaning is to be surrounded with the people that remind you that you are not the only weird one walking the face of this planet. I’ve found my tribe. Patchy, Ryana, Misha, and a few others—that’s good people right there. My people.

One day soon, we’ll be hunkered together in a fancy tree house, heated bottles readily available at will, and a good toilet seat for Misha. We may be a little cooky, but in the best way possible. And we deserve only the best.