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jackblankhsh · 5 years

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Why I Quit -- Santa’s Elf

"In my Mom's rendition, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer eventually goes on a rampage, beating elves to death with his hooves, and disemboweling reindeer with his antlers. As for Santa, well, lemme just say ho-ho-holy shit. Thing is I can't help thinking she taught me the right & wrong lesson with her variation.

"Allow me to elaborate.

"Nothing motivates a person to grasp at any job like a looming eviction that'll cast one out into Chicago winter. It is a wicked season. Polar bears stalk the streets. Great glacial mounds dot the city wherever the homeless, huddled together for warmth, have frozen into human icebergs. And always there those driven mad by cabin fever who turn into winter banshees, their screams echoing down the icy streets.

"Call me a coward, but I've lived here long enough to know better than risk Winter on the streets. So, following the word of a grape vine bird, I went to the Brick House Diner. There I found Chari chowing down on a burrito.

"Chari is a queen in the skin grift game commonly known as stripping, though she prefers the term gash flasher. Folks often misperceive Chari, given that she spells 'Cherry' C-H-A-R-I; however, she's certainly innovative. Consider how she alters her act for holidays. Around Easter she dances as Bunny, near the Fourth of July she's Booty Ross, and close to Giftmas she's Mary Christmas -- 'merry' spelled M-A-R-Y.

"We met at a bachelor party. When the groom asked if Chari might be inclined to acts other than sexy dancing she rewarded those hooker implications by performing an act of surra de bunda so severe it broke his nose and gave him a concussion. Always respect a woman who can use her butt as a wrecking ball.

"After the usual chit-chat kindling we fired up the real conversation.

'I heard you know about a job.'

"She nodded, 'You know I pick up all kindsa stuff. Guys think they're impressing me, or some shit. Can't complain though. My stock portfolio is crazy good.'

"Fishing in her purse she produced a pamphlet. Passing it across she said, 'I think the guy who gave me this was thinking like save the stripper, or whatever.'

"I chuckled, 'The ol' respectable job angle.'

"She smirked, 'Like I'll be so grateful I'ma just have to suck his dick.'

"I said, 'Well, as a man, I can say we're raised with the grateful BJ delusion.'

"She rolled her eyes, 'Oh please, you believe it because you want it to be true. Ain't no different than Jesus saves.'

"Glancing over the pamphlet I said, 'Speaking of grateful oral...'

"She said, 'Don't be getting ideas. This is me paying you back. That bachelor party was gonna kill me. Besides.' She smirked, 'I think you'll be an adorable elf.'

"The next day I found myself in the beige office of a mall manager in Niles. After introducing myself we stared at each other in silence for well over a minute. I think he kept expecting to pull off my face, revealing Chari beneath a mask, and his pornographic fantasies of gratitude would come to life.

"Finally, playing off that note, I said, 'So about this job, Chari said I'd be a good fit.'

"He nodded, 'It's not hard. Tricky part is whether you like kids. You like kids?'

"A few years back I attended a family gathering. The three year old crotch fruit I'm supposed to call my nephew got to its feet. The whole family cheering it on my brother's rat child started baby-staggering towards me. Arms spread wide it giggled. Leaping off the couch I shouted, 'Not today Satan!' and punted it across the room. (I may've been drinking.)

"As such, I informed the manager, 'I know how to handle kids.'

'Okay. Let's get your costume.'

"I shuddered. Though aware of this aspect of the job I didn't look forward to it. I've often had vivid nightmares about a sweaty Walt Disney furiously masturbating to forlorn actors sadly donning the mouse costume.

"The manager said, 'Follow me.'

"He led the way through a network of halls behind the shops taking us to a locker room. While he searched for a box containing my costume I waved to a maintenance worker in overalls.

"The maintenance guy said, 'What they rope you into doin'?'

'Elf.'

"He grimaced, 'You let me know when you wanna die. I'll kill ya. Did it for the last guy. Least I can do, ya poor bastard.'

"Right away, I liked him.

"The manager returned carrying a battered cardboard box. Handing it over he said, 'Put this on then go to the middle of the mall. Santa's there. You can't miss it.'

"Opening the box I sighed heavily. Inside I found red tights, a green short sleeved shirt, and a red and white striped long sleeve shirt as well as a pointy green cap, and a set of fake points for my ears. Everything smelled like diseased feet, and the points felt like uncooked chicken. Yet, I soon found myself transformed into an elf.

"Walking the mall is like roaming the belly of a beached whale. The labored breathes of certain patrons even helps conjure a vivid image of the leviathan struggling to breath as its own weight crushes it out of existence. Meanwhile, despite everything in a state of slow decay, creeping towards death, delusions of survival abound like the leather store believing yalmukes will save the dying retailer, or the lingerie shop's unsettling new line of preteen thongs. Like dynamiting a beached whale it would be merciful to burn this place down.

"I spotted the ersatz Santa village long before I reached it. It appeared to be constructed on a budget of zero fucks, and discarded pizza boxes. Buildings, particularly Santa's workshop, stood so crooked they must've been constructed by a German expressionist. In front of it all sat Santa, enthroned on a thrift store recliner spray painted gold.

"Next to him stood a perky albino asparagus who introduced himself as, 'Todd.'

"Santa introduced himself as Santa.

"I said, 'I see we're going method.'

Todd beamed, 'If it makes the kiddies happy that's cool.' If he smiled any wider his head would've come out his mouth.

Slapping a nicotine patch on Santa said, 'Lez do dis.'

"And so it began... a job that made me want to smoke heroin out of a shotgun, get a nice double barrel overdose going.

"Later, unprompted, Santa said, 'Been doin' this job fer-fuckin'-ever. Started when my bitch wife took off with the kids, and I was missing children, which is something never thought I'd say. So I was like, "Mall Santa!"'

'Why'd she leave?' I asked.

"He shrugged, 'I's fucking our neighbor, and that asshole got it in his head I wanted him to kill her. So there was this whole misunderstanding. Oh, hold up.'

"Todd lifted an approaching child into Santa's lap. The kid stared in wide eyed wonder.

"'Hello little boy!' Santa said, 'What do you want for Christmas?'

'I wanna thister.'

'Then send us your mom,' I said.

"Santa choked down a laugh. He told the kid he'd see what he could do, but if there was anything else, say a toy of some kind... but the boy insisted on a sister.

"Todd snapped the kid's photo with a digital camera. Then I helped the boy down. Delivering him back to his parents I asked if they wanted to buy the photo. Like most they declined having already snapped pics with smart phones like the cheap bastards they are. The same way they used Santa as a scapegoat, blaming him when they couldn't afford gifts for their kids.

"So it went, eight hours a day for the next twelve days.

"Occasionally packs of mallrats tried to storm Santa's village. This usually involved Goth kids screaming about Krampus. We kept giant fake candy canes at the ready, and though bludgeoning teenagers is always a perk, it made the job feel worse afterward. Those battles sent me to such dizzying heights the drop back to reality felt like orbital skydiving -- too much time to fully consider the fall.

"Todd, on the other hand, possessed a mystifying ability to always smile. After one fight he said, 'That young fella had some skills. Good for him.'

I said, 'Maybe next time he'll kill you.'

'Then he'll be a winner!' Todd said. Watching him bandage himself with wrapping paper and gauze, I considered stealing a pinch; suspecting I could get a cheery high sucking on Todd's bloody gauze.

"But most days belonged to managing the slow procession of beaming children accompanied by bored adults lobotomized by parenthood.

"In the locker room one night a gruff voice asked, 'You wanna die?'

"Startled I leapt forward bouncing hard off my locker. Spinning around I found the maintenance guy standing directly behind me.

"I said, 'Not yet. Things are okay... I guess.'

"He nodded, 'When you're ready, say the word. You won't even know I'm coming. Just.' He snapped his fingers, 'Lights outs.'

'I don't doubt it,' I replied, 'Hey, I'm just here until I've got enough to buy a gun. Then I can rob a bank like someone who still has their dignity.'

'Like Todd,' he said.

"Todd having dignity proved hard for me to swallow. For instance, his frog eyed crotch stared down kids all day, and despite even the most direct statements he never did a thing about his huge man-el toe. Yet, it does take a stalwart individual to be so... Todd. Like physics, and voluntary celibacy, optimists have never made sense to me. Despite whatever obvious negativity I sent his way Todd remained a prince of the bright side. Some days my only motivation for work orbited some contrived scheme to break Todd's smile, yet I slowly began enjoying his immutable nature -- the seemingly eternal persistence of his mood.

"The maintenance guy's words echoing in mind, I started seeing Todd in a new light. Instead of a silver lining seeking lunatic I started seeing a young man impervious to the world's woes. Of course, I harbored doubts. Perhaps in private he metamorphosed into a snarling bitter dick, a speculation I held on to until one fateful day.

"Close to the end of work we let our guard down. We each wanted to go home for our own reasons. Santa had been peed on four times; it being payday meant I was anxious to get my drink on; and Todd wanted to hurry home to make a gingerbread house for his grandma. We didn't notice the circling, growing Krampus kult clad in black... until it was too late.

"A wiry teen jumped atop the phone case kiosk.

"Holding high an ornate, impractical dagger he bellowed, 'Death to the red lie!'

"And then the stygian tsunami came from all directions. Surrounded, we didn't stand a chance. Still, we fought the good fight. At one point I frantically threw children at the legion of incoming Goths, bowling them over. Santa put on a pair of reindeer antlers, and charged into the swarm head first. Anytime I saw a piercing I grabbed it, and pulled hard as I could.

"About to be overwhelmed I shouted, 'Robert Smith is dead.' As the swarm paused to check their phones I used that as our chance to flee.

"Grabbing Santa I said, 'We gotta go!'

'Ho-ho-hold up,' he stammered, 'Where's Todd?'

"I saw him lying face down. Shoving Santa to kick start his exodus, I hurried over. Scooping up Todd I fireman carried him back to the locker room where I dropped him unceremoniously on the ground.

"Gasping, I declared for the millionth time in my life, 'I gotta quit smoking.'

"Then I noticed a pool of blood spreading from Todd. Rolling him over revealed a set of pentagram themed shuriken stuck in his back. It didn't look good. Also, it's entirely possible when I dropped him I may have inadvertently driven them deeper into Todd.

"Kneeling beside him I lied, 'You're going to be okay.'

"Todd said, 'As long as the kids are happy.'

"Then he died. Smiling. Later I watched the maintenance guy mop up his blood, erasing what was left of Todd, save for a vague stain on the locker room floor. The next day I arrived to find a doughy guy in the locker room struggling into the elf costume. It'd been washed, but there were still holes in the back.

"Wrestling with the tights the guy said, 'This fuckin' shit better be worth it.'

"Seeing that sourness, I told the new guy, 'When you the manager come around, tell him I quit.'

"Chicago winter isn't the worst thing in the world... like Rudolph, Todd was born with a gift people didn't appreciate until they needed it. To see him replaced so easily, well, frankly your honor, that's why I burned down the mall."

#writing #fiction #shortstory #short story #surreal #weird #whyiquit #honestyisnotcontagious #elf #santa #holiday #christmas #giftmas #writer

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