Playing Santa

As soon as I had finished my finals, I got home from my junior year at college for Christmas Break and was looking for a part-time job. I arrived at the mall early on a Tuesday morning and went from store to store looking for anything that might be available. Finally I went to the mall management office and tried there. A cute little Asian receptionist had just explained that there were no openings, and I was doing my best to flirt with her as I leaned across the counter, when a gray-haired woman in a dark green business suit burst into the office. She ignored me, moving me aside, and started talking to the receptionist. She also got in the way of me seeing down the top of the receptionist’s beautiful green Christmas dress.

“Rachel, we have to find another Santa immediately. Mr. Olson has been hospitalized and won’t be able to come in anymore. He apparently slipped and fell and broke his hip. Get busy on the phone to every employment agency and find us a Santa. NOW!”

Rachel replied, “Yes, Mrs. Shattuck. Right away.” She picked up the phone and began going through a Rolo-dex for some numbers.

I don’t know why I did it, but I really needed a job. I used my best deep-voiced baritone Santa imitation and bellowed, “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas.”

The lady in the suit, Mrs. Shattuck, spun around and looked at me, as if noticing me for the first time. She looked around me to see if there was anyone else in the room. There was not. She looked up at me and said, “Do that again, young man.” I did.

Mrs. Shattuck began studying me closely. She looked at me over her glasses and through them. She studied my face carefully. I was far too tall at six foot three, and too thin at 195 pounds. On the other hand I have very light blonde hair, and a matching beard and mustache, and blue eyes. Her gaze left my face and she scanned me from head to toe and side to side as I smiled down at her. Gradually a smile appeared on her face. “Young man, do you really think you want the job? You’d work 10 hours a day from now until Christmas Eve. Little kids will climb all over you and you have to stay happy and cheerful the whole time. Can you do that.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am sure I can,” I smiled down at the little woman. “I’m in my third year of college and plan to be a teacher when I graduate. I enjoy kids.” Well, it was mostly true. I did plan to teach, but high school Spanish, French, or German, and not little kids.

Mrs. Shattuck spun around and said, “Rachel, cancel those calls. We have a Santa. I will take care of the paperwork. You call the Shady Lady Salon and tell them we need them to do some work to change blonde hair to white and add an extension to a beard. Anything they can do to hide his age will help, too. Then call the costume shop and tell them we need their best Santa suit in a…,” she paused and looked me up and down, “44 long with lots of proper padding.”

Rachel went right to work and Mrs. Shattuck motioned me into her office where we filled out the paperwork and she learned I was 21 years old, and that my name is Lars Jorgenson. She hustled through the work and then stood. “OK, Lars, you need to go down to the Shady Lady across from Sears. They are going to work on your hair and makeup.” I cringed a little. “Polly or Heidi from the costume shop will come over there with a suit and get you into it and ready to greet your public. You start work in 2 hours in the central commons of the mall. Good luck and welcome aboard.” She shook my hand, then sat down and started some other paperwork.

I exited out to the receptionist and Rachel grinned at me. “Glad we could help you find some work. I hope you enjoy it.” She had a beautiful smile.

“Well, when you get off work, come by and sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas,” I said as I smiled down at her and winked.

Rachel rolled her eyes and said, “You need to get over to the Shady Lady and get yourself changed into an old geezer. See you later.”

I smiled and headed out the door.

++++++++++++++++++

The Shady Lady was an upscale beauty salon. As soon as I walked in, a woman of about 40 took me by the arm and said, “You must be Lars. I’m Liz. Come with me.” She escorted me past the women getting their hair and nails towards the back of the shop. As we walked I couldn’t help but look down at her ample cleavage encased in a tight-fitting red sequined blouse that was open enough to see the edge her red, lacy bra beneath. Her bleached blonde hair was piled high on her head. She held my arm tight to her side as we made our way into a small room and she closed the door. It was all set up as a one-person salon. “This is where we do some of our exclusive customers that think they are too good to gossip with the common folk,” she said as she released her grip. “Please have a seat while I see what we can do.”

I eased down into the leather chair and hit my head on the hair dryer. Liz laughed and raised it out of the way. “Sorry about that. You’re a little taller than most of my customers.”

Liz then began studying my face closely and running her hands over it and through my hair with a wrinkled brow. She looked like a doctor deciding where to make the first cut in a surgery. Finally she sat back.

“Your eyebrows are great. They’re almost white already. The rest we’ll have to dye, but come in after Christmas and we’ll change it back.”

Liz leaned my chair back and bent over me. Those monster jugs were right in my face. Then I felt the warm water and after the initial shock closed my eyes and enjoyed my first hair washing by another person. It was actually quite sensual to have someone else wash and rinse my hair as I did nothing. She was almost done with the rinse when I felt her hand on my lap and realized I had started to get aroused. I jumped a little and Liz giggled, “Well, I see Santa is easy. Better settle that down Santa or you’ll scare the little kids.” She moved her hand away and finished my hair, then tilted the chair back up.

I could tell my face had turned several shades of red. I finally opened my eyes and Liz had a big grin. “Sorry about that. I’m not sure what was going on in your mind, but you were enjoying it. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Liz began to dye my hair. Just then, Rachel came in and handed me a list. She giggled a little when she looked at me and then said, “Mrs. Shattuck sent this over. It’s a list of the stores in the mall and the main items they have that would be of interest to kids. Study it so you can send the parents in the right direction for whatever they need.” Rachel handed me the list and left still giggling.

Liz worked for the next hour dying my hair and beard, applying makeup to my face, adding more beard with what felt like real hair, and even making my hands look old. While she was working, I studied the list as much as possible when someone is manipulating your face. The whole time, I tried not to look at her cleavage. She finally pronounced the job done. She turned the chair to a mirror and I stared in disbelief. While I didn’t look ancient, I did look at least 45 or 50 years old. The hair on my head and face was completely white. My beard hung down to mid-chest. It was amazing. I looked over at her and just said, “Wow! I wouldn’t even recognize myself.”

Liz was all smiles. “Now, you will have to wear the beard 24/7 for the next two weeks. You should wash off the makeup every night though. Come in a half hour before work every day and I’ll redo the makeup.

I got out of the chair and there was a knock at the door. Liz opened to allow an elf to enter. Well, not really an elf, but a tiny, petite blonde of about 25 wearing green and red striped hose, a green and red pleated skirt, a green silk blouse, and a green Santa hat with a bell on the end. She even had on curly toed shoes. The elf really fit the part and was surely under five feet tall and must not have weighed 75 pounds. She had a large suitcase on wheels with her. Liz introduced her, “Lars, this is Heidi from the costume shop. She will help you into the suit.” Liz whispered something to the elf, then left and closed the door.

“Hello, Heidi,” I said, “I guess the suit is in the bag?”

“Nice to meet you Lars. Yes it is. I brought a suit and a couple of different kinds of padding.” Heidi opened the suitcase. The suit hanging inside was a thick, deep red velour. The fur trim appeared to be real, but I wouldn’t really know. Then she pulled out some vests that looked like someone had skinned a sumo wrestler. They looked like real skin! She looked them over and looked me over and finally selected one. “OK, Lars, Take off your shirt and let’s try this on.”

I did as she said and I hope she noticed that the young body underneath was not like the old face above it. I stay in pretty good shape rowing on the college crew team. Heidi handed me a white T-shirt which I put on. Then she helped me into the fat vest. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, but still weighed nearly 10 pounds I’m sure. The vest fastened around my neck with a clip in the back. When Heidi zipped it down my back, I looked down at what seemed to be a 40 year old beer belly. I put my hands on it to see how it felt and was shocked when it felt almost like real skin. It was filled with some kind of gel and even moved like real skin and blubber. There was not much padding over the shoulders, but plenty sloping from there across my chest and out. I could no longer see my belt buckle.

Then Heidi added some sleeves that attached to the fat vest and ended at my wrists. The sleeves were cotton lined but added fat to my arms.

“Now,” said Heidi, with a little gleam in her eye, “I hope you wore clean underwear today. I need you to lose your shoes, socks, and pants.” She turned away but made no attempt to leave the room. I shrugged and bent to take off my shoes, couldn’t reach them over the belly, and fell on the floor. Heidi jumped a little and then turned to look down on me, giggling. I looked up and smiled widely when I saw a couple inches of creamy white thigh above her stocking and saw that her panties were white lace bikinis and not green and red like the rest of the costume. “Just stay there,” she said with a big grin, “I’ll help you.”

Heidi knelt down and removed my shoes, then my socks. “Pants too,” she ordered looking toward my face. I laid back on the floor, undid my belt, the button, and the zipper. Heidi, grabbed both legs at the cuff and pulled. I lifted my butt off the floor and instinctively grabbed the waist of my boxers as she slid my pants off. I heard her take in her breath and then giggle a little. I couldn’t see her over my new belly.

The little elf walked over me, a curly toed foot on each side, stopped over my stomach and reached down with both hands to help me up. I sat up and then stood, with her help. She looked up at me and grinned, “If you’ll tuck Lars Junior back in, I’ll help you with the pants. I again turned several shades of red as she turned to the suitcase. I reached below the fat suit and tucked my half-hard prick back into my shorts.

The pants had extra padding on the back to make it look real and to make it easier to sit. There was also padding that fit like chaps for the front of my legs. Heidi asked my shoe size and left while I gazed at myself in the mirrors and tried to act more like the jolly, old elf. It was a lot easier with the suit on. I was practicing my “Ho, ho, ho’s” when she returned and helped me into my boots.

“I will keep a spare suit here. You can put it on each day after Liz does your makeup. You’ll need to hang the padding to air out each night. Bring the suit in each morning and we will clean it while you wear the second one. And have fun, Santa.” The little elf gave me a pat on my padded butt and opened the door to let Rachel in. She whispered something to Rachel, who giggled again, and then left.

Rachel came in a few minutes later to take me to my station. On the way there, she explained my duties. A “Santa’s Helper” would try to sell a picture of the kids on my lap, but anyone could come see me without paying. The kids would wait in line, sometimes with their parents, and sit on my lap. They would tell me what they wanted for Christmas, smile for a picture (or scream and cry) and then I would give them a candy cane and wish them a merry Christmas.

++++++++++++++

The place of my employment for the next two weeks was a sleigh sitting in fake snow with giant candy canes serving to hold up a tinsel rope to keep the lines in order. There was a sign out front saying, “Santa is feeding his reindeer. He will be back at 2:00.” The “2:00” part was changeable so they could put in a different time. Rachel explained that I would get a ten minute break every hour to stretch, cool down, use the restroom, or whatever. There was a restroom and a small lounge area behind the phony Santa’s workshop faÁade that was behind the sleigh. I also would get a thirty minute lunch break at 1:30, which was now nearly over, and a thirty minute dinner break at 6:30. Other than that, I was to be on from 10:30 AM to 10:00 PM, except Christmas Eve when the mall closed at 7:00.

As Rachel started to leave, the line of kiddies and parents began to form. I took Rachel’s arm and whispered, “Don’t forget to come back later for your candy cane and sit on my lap.” I winked. She giggled and left.

For the next four and a half hours, I tried to be cheerful for kids ranging from infants to pre-teens. They all spouted their lists, many of the young ones had their photo taken, and one kicked my shin. It was all I could do to down a bottle of water at the breaks. I never did pee, because I was sweating it out in the fat suit. The Santa’s helpers were two women in their fifties or sixties dressed as Mrs. Claus or something. Did that mean Santa was a polygamist?

My dinner time was spent eating a Macdonald’s cheeseburger while sitting behind the workshop with a fan cooling me down. The little room had a table with four chairs, a couch, and a small fan. The helpers joined me and talked to each other about their grandkids and knitting or something.

By 9:00 P.M. the kids were mostly gone. Heidi waved as sheleft for the day. A few sleepy eyed stragglers would show up, but not many. I ended my day at ten wondering what I had done. Fortunately, I have a full size pickup or I wouldn’t have been able to fit inside to drive home. You do get strange looks from people driving through town in a red F-250 wearing a Santa suit. Lots of people wave.

When I got home, I stripped out of the suit, which my mom gladly hung up for me, had a beer with Dad while he laughed at my hair and beard, then went to bed and crashed.