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[ 2003 ] |
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Santa Stories Another batch of Santa stories tomorrow, but until then, here's a fresh, never-before-posted Santa tale ... Rudolph jumps over the "Coffee Tip" at this afternoon's Santa Claus parade. The first year I worked as Santa at Woodbine Centre Mall way out on the northern edge of Etobicoke. Woodbine Centre is a favourite with kids because it features an indoor amusement park. One Saturday afternoon I was sitting on the throne and had sucked some strands of my beard into my mouth and inadvertently swallowed them ... though they remained attached to the beard. Happened all the time. I never found a way of effectively fishing the hair out; I would wait as long as I could as strand after strand found it's way down my throat and finally, when it became too much, I'd ask an elf to stop the visitors, stick a gloved finger in my mouth and pull out the bile-caked hair, trying to gag quietly. But like a cat clearing hairballs, I always made some noise and had a dry heave or two. The trouble began as a trickle and became a mob. The line to see Santa filled up with a crowd of bawling kids and angry parents. Their world had been shattered by a startling, unexplainable event: there were TWO SANTAS at the mall. A company whose name rhymes with "arcadian mire" had rented the mall's amusement park for the staff Xmas party and the event included a Santa Claus who was giving out real presents in full view of everyone else at the mall. When the mall kids asked to see this incredible, present-providing Santa, they were -- obviously -- told to hit the road. And so they came to me. Discount, 23-year-old, beard-sucking, no-present Santa with his stale candy canes . I spent an afternoon fielding questions about why there were two Santas and which one was the real Santa. I came up with several, convoluted half-baked pseudo-scientific explanations that involved "trans-dimensional something-or-others". When one older, smart-ass kid confronted me about the two Santa situation, I told him that it was the same Santa, I had just rushed over at the same time that the kid came from the amusement park. Somehow we got through that afternoon and I'm glad it never happened again. At one point, the mother of a particularly devastated child came up to me and said, "He said that you must be the real Santa, because you were nice and talked to everyone." Damn straight, 99.999% pure Santa. Tomorrow: More Santa Stories! Dec. 6: Santa hits rock bottom!
3:03 PM
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