Right Muffins – this is the deal. I blog you read. But what I’m about to write may give you nightmares. Please be forewarned before you continue.
You’re still here I see. *cough* okay. Here goes.
Last Saturday I was at work, in the office as you do. Just dropping off some account paper work when from the corner of my eye I could see the Big Boss and other managers huddled in a group looking quite concerned.
It seemed Santa had not turned up to entertain the children in the newly formed grotto/dressed up park bench which had recently been erected by the fragrance hall and with only a few hours to spare they were tearing their hair out thinking of anyone who had the relevant police checks (due to being in contact with children these checks are advised) that could wear the outfit and shout, ‘ho, ho, ho!’
Me and my big mouth! Of course I said I had a police check – meaning I am able to work with children. I didn’t know when I mentioned this what the situation with Santa was but I soon found out as I had a white wig, beard and scary red suit thrust upon me.
Laughter ensued – lots of it.
I just tried my best to see it as an acting gig. Que me getting into character. I figured Santa is like way old – so a dip in posture was needed and possibly a limp as well. You never know, he could have been a war veteran or something.
With walk perfected I had to get my voice correct. One of the managers went through a roll play scenario.
It’s not easy when another adult is trying to be a seven year old and you’re dressed as Santa. I mean, its wrong on so many levels I can’t even say. Plus I’m a woman and I’m trying to act like an old man. It was like Tootsie but in reverse.
With sacks full of toys I proceeded (with the Big Boss’s help) down stairs where my throng of young fans awaited. Or not as the case may be. We thought there would be a line of children waiting excitedly but alas there wasn’t.
Two and half hours later…
I’d had people coming up to me to pinch me on the nose to see if I was real. Adults argue that I was an robotic Santa. Kids have their picture taken with me and some of them trying to hug me to death (a cunning plan to sweeten Santa up for Christmas Eve I would imagine).
During the spell of sitting down on the park bench (decorated with fake snow and teddy bears) I nearly nodded off to sleep. Possibly why some people thought I was wasn’t real.
Lots of staff come up to me to laugh their la-la’s off …and also tell me I was a mighty good sport.
All in all it was quite a spectacle but I could never say I was a performer if I didn’t rise to a acting challenge such as this.
Unfortunately no visual record of me as Santa is available (unless I send out a message in the local paper for parents to come forward with their pictures of me and their children – not the best plan). Our Big Boss did have one picture on her phone but that was stolen when she went out for the evening. In a way I’m sad about that. I have no idea how stupid I looked.
The verdict was that I gave a good performance as Santa – possibly comparative of Dan Ackroyd in Trading Places…
Merry Christmas,
V x
