Does driving past Honolulu Hale on your way to work make your heart begin to race — with aggravation?

Does the sound of "Jingle Bells" blaring from a cell phone cause the little hairs on your arms to stick straight up — with dread?

Does the smell of freshly cut Christmas trees, or gingerbread houses and apple-cinnamon candles make your stomach leap — with acid reflux?

If that was a deafening "Hell, yes," then this one's for you.

Let this serve as a wakeup call for the "holiday cheer" crowd: Not everyone squeals with delight at this bombardment of Christmas this and that.

Call 'em Scrooges, Grinches or children of the Dark Side. This group couldn't care less what you think of them because, quite frankly, they loathe this time of year and wouldn't mind if you know it.

"I think it's because those people didn't get what they wanted for Christmas in previous years," quipped actor Andrew Meader, who stars in satirist David Sedaris' "The SantaLand Diaries" this weekend. "When are they going to realize that Santa knows everything, and next year they will have to be less naughty?"

Whatever the reason, these folks won't be donning blinking Christmas-tree pins on their pom-pommed sweaters, and baking Jingle Bell-shaped shortbread cookies for Junior's soccer teammates is the farthest thing from their minds.

But hey, if you think about it, maybe the anti-Clauses are on to something. Take the 10-pound Sunday newspapers crammed with ads less-than-subliminally telling you where to blow your hard-earned cash. And please, take the Rubik's parking, the packed stores, the rabid shoppers and the jacked-up prices.

Not to mention the lines. Oh, the lines. They lead to the ATMs, the cash registers, the gift-wrapping stations and the restrooms (with some oblivious lady's sharp-cornered shopping bag poking you in the bum). Sometimes you're in line so long you forget what you've lined up for.

And what's with the winter sales? Uh, it's 82 degrees outside, GAP and Old Navy. Those matching mittens might make good pot holders.

Joy to the world? Lost somewhere between mailing out 73 five-page year-end family newsletters (and receiving them) and the painfully awkward company party.

Even confirmed stocking stuffers have their peeves.

For Camille Michel, a Noel-observing mild-mannered mother of three, nothing drives her postal like those who brag about their shopping feats.

"When my co-workers are happily babbling about not only being done with their shopping but having already wrapped their presents before the last of the Thanksgiving turkey has been made into sandwiches, I put my fingers in my ears and sing, 'Fa-la-la-la-la' so I can make it through the day without decking anyone in the halls," said Michel, 39, of Honolulu.

"My message for my beloved colleagues: Stop. It. Already. You. Overachievers."

Tackling ol' Tannenbaum is another issue.

"I spent years slaving over perfect scallops and intricate blinking patterns on the tree only to find out everybody's either, one, a critic, or two, completely apathetic about my hard work," Michel said. "These days, I have two words for Christmas decorating: 'artificial' and 'pre-lit.' Nothing smells as good as 'easy to assemble' feels."

Others choose not to decorate altogether — forget picking pine needles out of that shaggy carpet for the next seven months or wasting 5 million zigawatts of energy per minute on fake icicles and a no-melt snowman.

What gets Meader going is the nauseating spotlight on the Big Jolly Guy. Credit should be given where credit's due, said the 30-year-old Kailua resident.

"I propose an elf strike — what would happen then?" Meader said. "The toys wouldn't be ready, the sleigh wouldn't be loaded. Christmas morning would arrive and there would be a deafening chorus of children crying. Just a little respect for the elves, is that too much to ask?"

The icing on the (fruit) cake is the family get-togethers — childhood scars, disfunction, anxiety and all, said freelance event coordinator Bianca Mills, 29.

"I guess subjecting myself to versions of my family's interpretation of my purpose in life is better than waiting in a two-hour line to be trampled by eager, prospective K-mart customers in a rush for discounted plasma TVs and half-priced toiletries," e-mailed the former Waikiki resident, who now lives in San Francisco.

"Yes, I will take a large helping of passive-aggressive role play and re-created foundations for years of therapy, because nothing reminds you how far you've come like family that reminds you where you've been. That's what family is for."

Advertiser staff writer Zenaida Serrano does not hate the holidays.

Reach Zenaida Serrano at zserrano@honoluluadvertiser.com.