Another Second Rate Santa Saga - Ye Olde Yuletide Log

Still feverishly editing and tweaking my as-of-yet-still-too-long, short story so once again a second help of my Second Rate Santa Sagas.

Another Second Rate Santa Saga - Ye Olde Yuletide Log

The shopping days are dwindling, Jack Frost is nipping right along, and credit card CEOs are grinning. Yep, we're smack in the middle of Christmas season so here is a new edition of my Santa tales.


If you missed out on the picture of me in the red suit go here and read how I happened to become a mall Santa.

Installment two, can be found here.

And numero three, here.


Or you can skip those and join in the fun with this new edition.


I'm the kind of guy who tries to have fun regardless of the situation. Call it what you will - finding the silver lining, making lemonade out of lemons, believing there might be a diamond inside that lump of coal in my stocking. So even though playing Santa wasn't all Ho, Ho, Hos and gold tinsel, I tried to have fun. Though my idea of fun and other's isn't always the same, as this story illustrates.


Santa's domain sat smack dab in the middle of the mall. The set consisted of a small house open on three sides, a white picket fence which contained white cotton spread out on the ground to look like snow and a bunch of mechanical elves and reindeer. Some of the elves waved, others bent to pick up a package, or slowly turned their heads. But they all moved in some way. As did the reindeer.


Kids often asked about these mechanical critters and I would tell them that elf is named Squirtamirt or that one is Higgligiggle. And the reindeer I'd call Comet or Blitzen or whatever struck my fancy at the time. None of them had a red nose so I'd tell the kids that Rudolph was up on the roof.


Also from time to time I'd stand up, because my butt got sick of sitting for hours on end in that dang red velvet chair. Santa tried not to dig out the wedgies while anyone was watching but a guys gotta do what a guys gotta do. When I stood to "stretch" I'd always waved at the kids along the fence and shouted out, "Merry Christmas!" I'd also have a little fun with Galen, my boss.



The mall provided us with Oatmeal Creme Pies to hand out to every kid, whether they paid for a picture or not.

I like Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies myself, so in order to maintain the proper Santa physique I indulged in one, or two, or ten a night. Thus, I always had a few of the little round brown patties of goodness stashed  in my pocket.


If you have an aversion to bathroom humor and the immature actions of adult males -- stop reading now. If not proceed.

Did you know an oatmeal creme pie, removed from it's cellophane package and rolled up looks a lot like a human turd? Alarmingly similar if a person rolls said cookie so that each end tapers.

I left one of these "presents" under an elf for Galen to find and when he did, I got quit a reaction. He squinted, stepped closer, squinted some more. Then he called me over and pointed. "What is that?"

Waving to the kids, I said, "I don't know."

Galen scratched his head and bent down for a closer look. "Looks like a turd," He finally said.

Trying hard to maintain a straight face I chimed in with, "Guess Elves gotta go to."
"Well pick it up," Galen said.
"I'm not picking it up." I answered. There are kids watching. It wouldn't look very Santa-like to go around picking up Elf crap. Now would it?"

Galen stared some more. "What do you think it is, Really?"
I continued to wave, "Beats me."

Finally, he bent down to pick it up and found it to be softer and stickier than he ever imagined. The look on his face combined with the fact he nearly gagged had me laughing so hard tears filled my eyes.

There for a few seconds he really believed that Elf had laid a yuletide log and my only regret is that he threw the thing in the trash before I had a chance to grab it and take a bite, ala Bill Murray in Caddyshack.