Today, when your alarm goes off at 7 AM, you'll take a second to remember why you set your alarm in the first place (the last time you had to wake up early was six weeks ago for a court date). You'll spot the Santa Claus suit hanging on the back of your closet door and your heart will break. Your Uncle got you the job as a favor, and you need the cash since your unemployment runs out in two weeks and you have nothing on the horizon. Nonetheless, you're not going to go to the Boscov's and start work as a department store Santa today. Instead, you're going to lay in bed awake for a couple of hours, occasionally swearing at the Santa suit when you catch sight of it. By 9:30, you'll get up and take the Santa suit off the back of the closet door and toss it into the living room so it's out of your sight. You'll stay in bed until 1 PM, listening to the voicemails from the store as they come in. One voicemail tells you that they can't open Santaland until you get there. Another hopes that you're okay. The last one tells you that they need the Santa suit back, and that you can get your 30-dollar deposit back if you bring it in.
You bring the Santa suit in at 4 PM and the Boscov's HR person tells you can't have your deposit back since you prevented Santaland from opening. You feel stupid. Of course they told you you'd get your deposit back. They wanted you to return the suit and they knew you wouldn't if you thought you'd get stiffed. Sitting in the chair while the HR woman explains her policies, you think about all the things you could have done with that Santa suit if you had kept it. For example, you could have worn it on Halloween next Autumn.
Before you leave the Boscov's HR office, you decide to work up some tears to see if that will get you your deposit back. You really need that thirty dollars badly and you really don't care if some lady who works in the back office of a Boscov's sees you cry. You're surprised though when a torrent of real tears starts to flow. You tell the HR woman you're sorry and that you've had some personal issues lately that prevented you from making it to the Boscov's on time, and that you're sorry the kids didn't get to see Santa Claus today. By the time you're done begging, your sobs are so powerful that you're panting for breath. You're clearly letting out a whole lot more than just your sorrow over a lost thirty dollars. You're not even sure if you can stop crying.
The HR woman tells you she can't do it and sends you on your way. You cry all the way to the car and for the whole ride home. When you get home and get into bed, you continue to sob for several hours while watching TV. Eventually, you pass out and sleep for a full day.
When you wake up two days from now, you'll forget what day it is and you'll expect to find the Santa suit on the back of the closet door, but it will be gone.
Happy The Santa Who Wasn't Day!
