The man in the Santa Claus suit politely held the door for me at the convenience store. He carried a morning paper under one arm and a bottle of cheap wine clutched in the other and as I passed, he flashed me a grin and winked. I thanked him and he nodded. The store was crowded but no one seemed to be paying the slightest attention to him even though it was nearly 80 degrees on a bright April morning.
He stashed his wine inside his red jacket, adjusted his shiny black belt, and headed out and down the sidewalk. His hat was slightly off center, the fur trim on one boot was missing and the fingertips had been cut off his white gloves but he walked straight and with purpose. By the time I left the store, he was seated on the bench at the bus stop, his paper open on his lap and the cap of the wine bottle showing through the buttons of his jacket. He was frowning at the pages and shaking his head, now and then tugging at his beard to scratch the real whiskers underneath. A passerby slowed, stopped, then smiled and said, Merry Christmas! Santa looked up from his paper, glanced from side to side and then to the pedestrian. It's April, he told her in a tone that suggested she was somehow impaired, Christmas is in December. Her smile turned to a glare and she huffed at him before she stalked away. He dismissed her with an impatient wave and an inelegant hand gesture and the two uniformed cops outside the store broke out laughing. Santa turned in their direction briefly then returned to his paper.
The bus arrrived in a cloud of exhaust fumes and passengers alighted, a few doing a quick doubletake at the sight of the man on the bench, but most exiting and hurrying on their way without giving him a second look. He paid them no mind and when the bus pulled away, he remained on the bench, still reading his paper. The cops began debating whether or not to move him along but as he seemed harmless enough and was bothering no one, they decided to let him be. Within a few minutes, he meticulously folder the paper back into thirds and put it in his pocket. Unscrewing the wine bottle, he took a surreptious swallow and then stuffed it back under his jacket. Both cops had witnessed his action but to my surprise, they let it go.
A second bus came and Santa rose and climbed aboard without incident. The bus pulled into traffic and made it's lumbering way down the road with a roar of diesel engine and Santa Claus madly waving from the back window. I climbed into my car and pulled away, having decided that it couldn't help but be a good day.
1 comment:
Perhaps he saw the ice caps melting and thought it was time to get used to warmer weather.
Post a Comment