Oh dear, Santa

I remember responding to an ad in the Tribune Review several years ago. It was for a "Character-Santa.” The ad was seeking “a naturally, full-bearded” man. It didn't say man, but I assumed that the ad was for a man, although my brother I have seen a woman who might fit the bill but that’s another story. The advertisement sought a person for “a local mall” to do a six or seven week promotion. The ad read, “Will train. Must love children.”

Since I was newly retired, I thought I might enjoy finding something to keep myself busy with my free time; something different and something part time or casual. This advertisement was for something that was definitely different.  I like people and who couldn’t use a few extra bucks. So I called the number that was listed.

I reached a woman in New Jersey. I shared the particulars of the ad, explaining that I would be under contract with them. The time of the promotion would be over Christmas and I would be the Santa Clause for Westmoreland Mall. I thought, “Cool, it was local.”

I asked how long would I have to grow the full beard, I had a goatee at that time. She said it would have to be ready for the Christmas season. I asked for further details and she shared that I would be expected to work from ten A. M. until nine P. M. with two meal breaks of thirty minutes each and two restroom breaks of fifteen minutes,

Of course I asked about the salary. The company would give me $7.500.00 in total for those six or seven weeks. She said they would bring me to New Jersey for training, but here's the kicker, I would have to work seven days a week. She did say that there were fewer hours on Sundays. Thank goodness. I was to send a photograph via email in three weeks when my beard was fuller.

“SEVEN DAYS A WEEK! That's just nuts.” I thought. She explained the reason was if a child came back to visit, the child would expect to see the same Santa waiting to greet them. I can see her point, but seven days a week. That’s one reason I retired, too many hours. This contract sounded as though all they needed to provide was a ball and chain like for the prison road gangs.

I didn’t send her a photo after to share how much growth I had, but thought I am going to play Santa to my grandchildren anyway. And my grandchildren didn’t have to be VERY good to sit on my lap anytime of the year.