The End

Twas the day before Christmas and all through the grotto,

Parents queued patiently, Children not so,

There was excitement, jumping, laughing and cheer

And of course the obligatory toddler's tears,

Everyone seemed much nicer than before

Although I did have to wrestle a boy to the floor

We got through the queue, no problems or faults,

Avoided any charges of physical assault,

Presents all given, photos as well,

No more keyrings or magnets or hat with a bell,

The grotto is cleared, the letters all sent,

The elves all set for unemployment,

There really is nothing else to do, 

but to wish a very merry Christmas to you

from Ice, Magic, Snapshot, Bounce too

But probably not Twinkle.

The Night Before Christmas Eve

Tomorrow is our last day.


We will be short staffed. Our tempers will be even shorter. We will be incredibly busy. We have all at some point or other this week displayed signs of cabin fever and are ready to kill each other and/or all our customers.


What we need is a Christmas miracle. 


On the plus side we will get to watch anxious parents listen to what their kids ask Santa for and realise they've bought the wrong thing. Well, if you are stupid enough to bring your children to see Santa on Christmas Eve...

The Comeuppance

One elf had started to become a bit of a problem. She was slow on the tills, she took way too many photos and every time she was on our money would be down at least 40 pounds. No-one thought she was stealing, we just thought she was stupid.

On Tuesday she came in 30 minutes before her shift to say she'd had a fight with her mum and didn't feel up to working. Lame excuse, but as we could manage without her, head elf let it slide.

Today was insanely busy. Glimmer was sick and got sent home early. We were coping as best as we could, I was only til 3 and was looking forward to getting away and having a late lunch, the aforementioned elf was due to replace me for her last shift. At 2.45pm head elf came and begged me to stay an extra hour. I had places to be, people to see, food to eat, but things were desperate. Head elf was not happy, she'd finally had enough of lazy elf. Lazy elf who sent her mother down 15 minutes before her shift to say she wouldn't be in.

Head office was called, the truth was told and lazy elf will lose money for breaking her contract.

And who is the lazy elf of which I speak? Twinkle. I knew she wasn't worthy of my name.

The Names 2

As we approach the end of the grotto I feel I should do a round up of the most ridiculous names to pass through the enchanted forest.

 

5) Any name that is undoubtedly chosen from the pages of Heat magazine: Rihanna, Shakira, Keisha, Kai, Beyonce. We've had them all. We even had an Enya today.

4) Meadow

3) Aya Sky  

2) Two sisters: Acacia and Madoka. 'Are they types of wood?' I asked mother. 'I don't know, their father picked them.' 

And the number 1 place, without a doubt, goes to:

1) Shock

First name. Baby dressed like a bumble bee.

The Apology

Monday was my last day with Santa B and as he gave me my Christmas card and later gave me a lift home, I couldn't help feel a bit guilty. 


He really is a very nice man. And he isn't the worst Santa in the world. I saw one last week that was clearly a skinnier than average adolescent, with little to no effort to look the part. For all his faults, Santa B tried his best. And it wasn't really his fault that his hat kept falling off, and his padding sat weirdly and his beard went into his mouth. Santa A is pretty tough competition, and I must say I did notice improvement. A few safety pins here, and readjustment of the wig there and Santa B didn't do half badly. 


I'm sorry for misjudging you Santa B. Merry Christmas to you and yours.

The Coping Mechanism

6 weeks on and patience is almost up. 


The generally public are, by and large, incredibly stupid. They are incapable of queueing without a metal barrier to keep them in line; the concept of three photo items for the price of two is apparently tantamount to quantum physics; the seemingly insurmountable task of choosing between the three identical photos of their child screaming is made all the more arduous when they cannot pay attention for long enough to view them. Basically the grotto has made us despise humanity, a little bit.


We all have different ways of coping. Bounce tends to swear as they exit, Magic makes faces while they are adjusting their child for the photo. I've taken to muttering, usually under my breath. 

The Chat Up

A surprising amount of people like chatting up elves.


You'd think the garish, ill-fitting costume, the skin rubbed raw by excessive face paint and the fact that every time we move a bell rings, would have a negative impact on our attractiveness, but apparently not. 


Bounce generally gets the older men, older older. I think it's cause she's from Mauritius and men in Belfast over 60 are still amazed they have met someone so exotic, even if she is dressed as an elf.


Snapshot gets the middle-aged. Often married with a glaring wife. This is partly because she knows and has been out with a large percentage of the middle-aged population of Belfast.


And Ice. Ice attracts the younger crowd. Generally 13-18, sometimes toddlers. It's always full of awkward adolescence and finishes with the crushing realisation that I won't come home and play video games with them because I am actually 10 years older than they think. Oh yeah, and married. 


But all of us agree we are definitely receiving more attention in the grotto than we have anywhere else. I sure Freud would have a field day.


In reverse, Magic, the only male elf, stands all day ogling the beautiful Chinese girl who works at the stall behind us. He has yet to stay hello.