I settle in to the tall stool and park my heavy briefcase on the stool next to me. I am wearing too many layers of clothes, I am hotter than hell. I walked too quickly over Waterloo Bridge to avoid the cold, and as a result I feel heat down my back. I untuck my feet from their heels and reach for the mug of steaming hot non-fat gingerbread latte sat before me. I am already warm, but a mug of coffee can't be dismissed, especially not this time of year when the gingerbread flavored ones are marched out for enjoyment.

I sit back in the stool. I absently rub my calf, encased in a layer of thick black tights. I sigh and reach for the pearl around my neck, the one I almost never take off.

"Can I join you?" I hear.

I look up and smile. "Dude. You came back."

Santa moves into stool opposite me. He looks exactly as he did when I saw him two years ago, from the cheery red cheeks to the cheeky cup of steaming hot coffee loaded with whipped cream. "I went for the peppermint mocha this time, I found that the gingerbread lattes made me wired," he says kindly.

"It can happen."

"I know, especially when I have an extra shot of espresso."

"You do that? Isn't it a con?" I ask.

"You'd think so, but I consider it training for staying up all night delivering toys. You try to do it on No-Doz alone, you'll agree it's impossible."

"I dunno, man. Not being able to sleep is my handle."

Santa smiles broadly. I think: He has a nice smile, it's easy to see why Mrs. Claus went for him. This is immediately followed by: Oh my God, I just thought Santa was cute. I need to bleach my brain now. Finding Santa cute is like wanting to have a threesome with Alvin and the Chipmunks, and that's wrong on so many levels.

"So what's been happening, Santa?" I ask, quietly trying to shake rodent sex from my brain.

"Not much," he says, and leans forward for a long swig of his drink. The smell of peppermint wafts over to me, drowning me. I love the smell but it always makes me feel like I'm in a Fisherman's Wharf commercial.

"I saw this movie came out of you this year, in which Mrs. Claus gets knocked up. That was weird, Santa. I cna't express how your Missus should not be the bearer of children, the only thing she should be bearing is trays of gingerbread. And I know that's really sexist of me, and I should be all: 'Mrs. Claus can totally lead the reindeer too, you know! You should be making the cookies!' but she's an everlasting stereotype of goodness and maternal love. We kind of need that."

"Yeah, she wasn't too pleased about that, either. She's so stressed out that everyone thinks she's fat, then Hollywood goes and makes her pregnant. Now she's joined Jenny Craig and Rudolph and I get carrot sticks. Tim Allen is so on the naughty list now."

"Man. Like Santa could have a knocked up Missus."

Santa stops, his mug halfway to his mouth. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I can't get Mrs. Claus with child?"

I lay my hands flat on the table. "Santa, if you like me even a little bit, you won't make me visualize your penis. Please."

He laughs, and people around us turn their heads at the swimming sound of it. "Fine, I take your point."

We sit in comfortable silence for a while and sip our drinks.

"How are you really, Helen?" Santa asks kindly, his eyes twinkling.

I look up at him and smile. He sees me when I'm sleeping, he sees me when I'm awake...there's nothing he doesn't already know anyway. "I'm doing better, Santa. I really am. It's been hard this year, and I don't know what to make of it all. In some ways, it should be one of the best years of my life-we got this fabulous house. We have travelled. We got the most ridiculous looking dog that I am madly in love with. That part, that's truly been fantastic and I honestly am grateful."

"And the rest?" he asks quietly, his pink nose wrinkling over his coffee.

"Well, this year has been pretty hard. I'm looking forward to 2006 just being over at this point. I've tried to dust myself off in time for Christmas and I mostly succeeded-our living room looks like I gutted a Muppet to decorate, and I've been watching Christmas films like they're going out of style. I've watched Elf so many times I think people are going to commit me, but...I dunno, it just seems to cheer me up a bit. It's pretty easy to lose sight of it all, Santa. I'm struggling this year. What about you? If you could go back and undo something, what would it be?"

His thick white caterpillar brows furrow as he thinks about it. "Hmmm....good question. I dunno I....ok, no, I got it. I'd beat the frosting out of the guy who wrote I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Mrs. Claus made me see a relationship counselor over that one, and hired a private detective."

"You were tailed by a private detective?" I ask, sipping my latte.

"Yeah, one of the elves from the day shift of procurement. You're looking at me funny, what, you thought elves worked for free? They work in shifts. They're unionized, they're not slaves. They get paid in candy canes, except for those procurement elves, they get paid in Suzie Talks-a-Lot dolls. Dodgy nutcrackers, those guys. He got nothing on me, but still. That song really made me angry."

Wow. Santa gets angry? I wonder what happens when Santa gets mad. Does he throw toys? Fart Toll House scented farts? Give everyone in the North Pole the silent treatment? Randomly assign people to the naughty list out of spite?

I nod. "Sorry Santa. I've never really liked that song."

"Well," Santa says with a smile and a pat of the stomach. "Back to you, Helen. What would you like for Christmas? And please-no singing."

I grin. "I promise, no singing. That was a one off, I don't do musical numbers anymore."

So what do I want? A size 4 body? The extension done on our home? World peace? A baby, one that doesn't die on me this time? For Paris Hilton to become a Carmelite Nun and duck out of view for the rest of our lives? An engagement ring? Peace, love and goodwill to mankind?

I smile and shrug with one shoulder. "You know, I think I'm good this year, Santa. There's nothing I really want. I hope we all just have a good Christmas. I think that's what I want."

Santa smiles. "You're still on the good list, Helen."

"Thanks, Santa. I appreciate it."

Santa reaches for his mug and drains the last of it. He sets it down with a solid thud, and he smiles, reaches for his coat, and shrugs it on. "Well, I'm off now. I only nipped into the Big Smoke for some java, I have to get to Edinburgh and stop some folk from bungee jumping off the Firth of Forth. I swear, the thrill seekers never learn."

He puts his hat on and turns to me. "Merry Christmas, Helen."

I smile. I like him. "Merry Christmas, Santa."

Santa heads out. He gets to the door and he turns to me. "Oh and Helen? Buddy says hi," he grins, and he walks out into the London winter air.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 11:53 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
Post contains 1290 words, total size 7 kb.

1 You ought to be writing books, Helen.

Posted by: kenju at December 19, 2006 01:13 PM (L8e9z)

2 An engagement ring? Hm......You may have to elaborate on that one.

Posted by: Teri at December 19, 2006 01:26 PM (K7jOL)

3 You are too cute! Enjoyed the escape as always! Peace and love to you!

Posted by: SaraJane at December 19, 2006 01:30 PM (t5Xsa)

4 Who's Buddy?

Posted by: K David at December 19, 2006 02:08 PM (al5Ou)

5 SANTAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I KNOW HIM!!!!! (ps. we watched Elf at work yesterday

Posted by: geeky at December 19, 2006 02:50 PM (ziVl9)

6 The elves get paid in one of the four food groups? Good to know.

Posted by: amy t. at December 19, 2006 03:52 PM (3dOTd)

7 "Buddy says hi" hehehe. Merry Christmas Helen.

Posted by: ~Easy at December 19, 2006 03:59 PM (FKBK3)

8 I love your Christmas stories. Makes me happy to have been reading through three years of them now. Merry Christmas to you and yours. I hope the holiday season and the coming year are filled with love, joy, and happy surprises.

Posted by: Lisa at December 19, 2006 04:36 PM (ELUjU)

9 Thanks for putting a smile on my face after a rough day. I liked the buddy reference. Think I'm wrong if I'm imagining Santa as the one from Elf? Yes... I did go watch it, just out of curiosity - it was cute. I loved the girl's singing voice.

Posted by: Hannah at December 19, 2006 04:43 PM (5w+E2)

10 I love it when you talk to Santa.

Posted by: caltechgirl at December 20, 2006 04:53 AM (r0kgl)

11 As enjoyable as this story was, I decided to go back into the archives and re-read the one from 2004. And for that I must wish death on you, as I spent the entire damn day yesterday with "All I Want For Christmas Is You" in my head. I sang it for about 9 hours straight. By the time I passed out last night I was ready to kill the writers of that song.

Posted by: amy t. at December 20, 2006 04:41 PM (+FpFc)

12 Another wonderful holiday post. Brought back memories of your great posts two years ago. Thanks. If I don't get a chance to tell you again before, have a Merry Christmas and the best New Year ever.

Posted by: physics geek at December 21, 2006 01:27 AM (vKMFv)

13 And to all a good night!

Posted by: LarryConley at December 22, 2006 08:04 AM (uT+1b)

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