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Sunday, November 14, 2004

Nov 15: The Day of Pain

Today a small army of men return to work. They will struggle for low wages at a five-week task that is physically and mentally exhausting. Not all of them will make it: many will quit, some will be fired for showing up drunk or for sexually assaulting someone, a few will become temporarily or permanently disabled and a few will die.

Today is the start of ...

SHOPPING MALL SANTA SEASON



For four seasons, I was Santa Brett. I worked all over, I didn't care. Woodbine Centre in my first year, then sub shifts at Promenade & Gerard Square. But my main beat for three of those seasons was Fairview Mall. After my first year, I vowed never to do the job again and didn't work the following year. The year after that, I wound up at Fairview because the Santas they had, the guys with the real beards, all went insane and pretty much thought that they were Santa so they fired the lot of them (The Great Fairview Santa Purge of '94) and brought in replacements ... including me.

My Santa stories have saved me in so many social settings, they're well worth the years they took off of my life.

Here are a few of my favourite Santa stories from the archive:

Special Magic
People ask what the funniest thing was that a kid said to me. One weekend afternoon, there was a big line-up and I had a kid on my lap and the next kid waiting in line asked his mom, shouting so everyone could hear, "Mommy, can I ask Santa to use his special magic to get Dad out of jail?"

Santa vs. The Salvation Army Band
At Fairview, every Santa had to work a weekend shift. None of us wanted to work weekends, there were usually large crowds and the constant crush of people meant that you wouldn't get much of a breather during your shift. By the end of it you'd feel numb and your ass would be sore because Santa's "throne" was just a piece of plywood with a cheap cushion on it.

On weekends, the Salvation Army Band would play Christmas carols on the second level of the mall, right in front of the Santa set. O Holy Night droning on in the middle of the afternoon made it difficult for Santa to hear many of the kids and he'd be forced to ask them to "Speak louder! I can't hear you!" The other Santas were old guys and just sucked it in (I think they complained to the boss once but nothing was ever done).

I took matters into my own hands. I wasn't going to let a bunch of freaks make my job tougher and get away with it. The solution: when I had a kid on my lap, I'd ask, "Hey, do you like music?" The kid would always say 'yes' and then I'd point up to the band and say, "I sure wish they'd play a song for me! Would you go up and ask them to sing a song for Santa?" And the kid would agree and I'd say, "Tell them to play the song, Proud Mary."

Then I'd sit on my little velvet throne and watch the kid as she/he/it left the set, ran up the escalator and went and talked to the Salvation Army Band. Doing that once is kind of cute, right? Ha ha, Santa requested a song. Doing it twice might seem a bit weird. Okay, Santa, we get the joke. I'd ask every single kid for over an hour to go up, sending a steady stream of requests for Proud Mary. I am Santa, the children are my weapons; tiny little bombs of irritation.

One afternoon when we weren't very busy, I sent a little girl up to request Proud Mary and one of the band members turned and looked down at me. I smiled and gave him a big thumbs up. He sent the little girl back down with a message, "They don't have the sheet music." I sent her back up and told her to tell them to improvise. He sent her back down again, "Some of them don't know how to play the song." So I said to her in my most disappointed, grave Santa voice, "They're not a very good band, are they?"

Santa Love

Actual conversation:

Santa: Oh, she just waved.

Elf: She's flirting with you, man!

Santa: She's gone back in the store.

Elf: Man, she's hot. You should go talk to her.

Santa: Talk to her?

Elf: She digs you man, she's totally into you.

Santa: She digs Santa, she doesn't dig me.

Elf: She digs you as Santa!

Santa: What?

Elf: She doesn't flirt with the other Santas! Go talk to her, man.

Santa: As Santa?

Elf: No. As you, after your shift!

The third year I worked as Santa, there was a Benix store across from the set at Fairview. An attractive, friendly woman worked there and every morning as I walked out to the set as Santa, she'd be at the front of the store setting up the day's displays and she'd say 'hi' and flirt with me ... er, Santa. My main sidekick elf during the day was a young clubber/player-type who was always talking about women he was picking up while out at night and at least once a day he'd encourage Santa to hit on the woman in Benix. Or any women.

One afternoon, after my shift, I went to the Benix and browsed for a bit, looking at dishes and candles and stuff. The woman was working the cash so I grabbed the first thing I could think of, a bunch of spoons, and went to the cash to pay for them. At the cash, I thought there might be some sort of glimmer of recognition or she'd flirt a bit and we'd start chatting and I'd say, "Hey, guess what? I'm Santa!" Instead, she took the spoons, quickly did the sale and sent me on my way because ... I wasn't Santa, I was just another customer. Leaving the store, for a second I considered turning around and introducing myself ... but I didn't.

The next morning, Santa got his usual warm smile.

.....

I will post another batch before the Xmas including the very special episode about the horror of the first year as Santa: Destruction! The emergency room! A homemade biofilter! Don't miss it ...
 

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