Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Nurse the Hate: Hate The Mall Santa

I have become consumed with the idea of becoming a Mall Santa. This is not something I forsee doing in the near future, but rather after I have worn out my welcome in all other potential employment ventures. The key is always to plan out where you want to go, like a career roadmap. My plan is crystal clear. First there will be my "horrible tragedy" as an air traffic controller. The soundbite on CNN will be "What madman or complete incompetent would route three DC-10s into the exact same airspace over a major Amercian city? The devastation is, in a word, unimaginable." Flaming buildings, crying citizens, chaos, guys in safety hats pointing in all directions... It won't be good. You will then see the same clip of me over and over shielding my face as I walk into Federal Hearings about air safety. Eventually I will manage to wriggle out of all blame, and instead blame "The System" which allowed me to have such responsibility. Clearly I wasn't the man for the task.

It will be tough to get a job right out of the gate after that, so I see a stint as a roofer or landscaper. I will grow a beard, and begin smoking lots of pot. I will drive an old Chevy Blazer with a pissing Calvin sticker in the back window. I will spend massive amounts of time in Home Depot looking for things. I will listen to plenty of classic rock, and appear to be distant and faraway as I eat my chicken wings on Friday after payday. I will be wearing brown work boots, stained jeans, and a Dickies jacket anytime you see me. I will grow a strange new respect for the song stylings of Tim McGraw. This will eventually make me snap out of this, like a dream, and return to my home where I will shave my beard. That is when I will buy new clothes and begin my new career as a "consultant".

The plan will be to buy a series of black suits, bluetooth, and comfortable action sport crosstraining dress hiking shoes. I will routinely use phrases like "paradigm shift" and "game changer" and "picking low hanging fruit". I will wear a giant watch. I will refer to my lifestyle as "work hard/play hard". I will golf. I will give lengthy meetings at white collar businesses where I will appear to say much, but actually say nothing. Eventually, I will fall out of favor as a consultant when my terminolgy like "synergistic opportunities" grows rank and stale like an old baby diaper. There will then be a period of soul searching followed by attempts to "pick myself up by my boot straps". This will end in failure.

I will then attempt to become a fireman, but I will fail the physical exam in a public humiliation. Ditto that for police officer. I will then make the next logical move and become a security guard at the mall, where I will be routinely teased by high school kids. I will seek solace at the Food Court, where I will befriend the gals at Auntie Anne's pretzels. Due to my "special relationships" there, I will enjoy complimentary pretzels and gain a nice doughy 25 pounds around my midsection. I will be a swell guy, but be unfulfilled in my work. I will hand in my resignation to the Mall manager, and he will ask me not to leave, but I will tell him "I need to find new challenges" or something like that. He will then mention, in an offhand manner, that he hates to see me go and maybe I would consider something on a more part time basis. That will be the moment in which I finally become the Mall Santa I always thought I could be....

In what should be a moment of great triumph, I will ascend to the mighty throne of Santa. Yes, this throne may just be a chair placed on a small plywood stage, but it will symbolize much more. At last, I have made it to the top, for there is no boss in Santa's world. Santa calls the shots. He calls the plays. Santa is the Big Cheese. College kids dressed in elf suits will quake in fear when I bark out orders.

I will offer the children sage advice. Brush your teeth. Listen to your parents. Stay in school. Stay off the junk. That sort of thing. Perhaps I will even offer consumer advice. For example, if a child asks for an iPad I may inquire if perhaps the Mac Book Pro might be a better fit for his/her needs. Why ask for a pony, if an actual full sized horse might be a better fit? Oh, you want a Barbie? What about the Barbie Beach House? Barbie has to live somewhere, doesn't she? Children will look forward to their annual visits with Santa much like pilgrims hunger for an audience with the Dalai Lama. I will be wise, all knowing, and rule with an iron fist. Think "more cuddly Stalin"... It will be in the form of Santa that I will fulfill my purpose in this life.

It's hard not to love the holidays. Why not try to make the spirit of the holidays last as long as you can? It is very important to generate a good attitude, a good heart, as much as possible. From this, happiness in both the short term and the long term for both yourself and others will come. The Dalai Lama said that. Or maybe it was Bob Barker. I don't remember. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.


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