mall santas are presumptuous imposters

Gig is a word normally reserved for the entertainment industry to describe a job or a performance. I never considered myself much of an entertainer. I like to think of myself as more of a religious icon than a pop icon. And so, when I say I've got a gig, it sounds a bit sour rolling off my tongue. Like I've fallen from my lofty throne as the king of Christmas and have resorted to playing half-sold shows to seniors and alcoholics at a casino in Langley. But alas, Santa has had to swallow his pride and find a "gig". Dave (that's my holly-jolly cousin), thinks I should be getting more involved in society. He says I should be interacting with people and developing my social skills. I don't know what he's talking about. I'm incredibly social. I mean, just the other day I had an in-depth conversation with the voice at the McDonald's drive-thru about President Obama-rama's economic stimulous package. If you ask me, the drive-thru voice was the anti-social one. All he wanted to talk about was soda and ketchup.

But although Dave is young, he's a wise soul and I do try to follow his advice. After all, this is his world and I'm not familiar with your strange customs. So to fit in, I've scoured the Craigslist ads and found a job to which I am perfectly suited. I have an interview next week for a mall Santa position. Dave's been taking me through the rigamarole of trying to get me prepared. I thought it would be incredibly easy, as I am in fact the one and only REAL Santa Claus. But it's actually been quite challenging. I never realized how bizarre and twisted your Santa myth had become. Did you know that at shopping malls, around Christmas time, old men are hired on to pretend to be ME??? Yes, yes, isn't it absurd?? But listen, there's more! Not only do they dress up as me, they in fact sit in a plastic castle, surrounded by ridiculously tall elves, and the children in the mall actually line up and one by one approach this imposter Santa to tell him what they want for Christmas. Oh but it's not even that simple, the child does not simply stand at a safe distance away from the faker, but these petulant little capitalist-mongers are actually encouraged to sit upon the phony Santa's lap and ask for esoteric devices like Nintendo Wees and hot tubs. And perhaps most infuriating of all, is this phony Santa actually looks these children in the eyes and says, "YES, child. You will receive this plastic item if you are a good boy or girl. HO HO HO." (This explains why I received so many disillusioned e-mails from sad children the day after Christmas when they never got their Sega Genesis or their Virtual Reality helmet which I "promised" I would get them.)

But really!! Come on!!! Can you believe the nerve of these old bastards??? Making promises on my behalf?? Promises I could never hope to keep. I mean, Santa and his elves are woodworkers. If you were to ask for a Jenga set, I could certainly replicate it without all that fancy packaging. But the game would work just fine!! But what the balls is an I-Pod?? Is it some sort of one-man space ship?? I may be magic but I'm not NASA. Ask NASA for your spaceship, child. Not me. And especially not those crooked mall fakers. That's why I hope to get this job. So the REAL santa can finally set the record straight. I can finally tell those children, NO, Arnold, you may not have a pet giraffe for Christmas because you microwaved your pet gerbil and told your mommy that it died from natural causes.

Watch out shoppers, because Santa knows all and sees all.

santa...OUT.