Looking for a Summer Job

“One moment please Mr St. Nicholas.” The lady smiled knowingly, paused for a moment then opened a desk drawer and retrieved a thick sheaf of papers. “Here is our standard application form and CV pro-forma pack. Please fill this in – in triplicate, and return the copies to me tomorrow. We’ll then arrange an appointment with one of our job placement specialists who will put you in our system and see what we can find for you.”

Santa looked down at the application form in his hands and sighed, “This looks rather complicated,” he said, sadly. “I’m a rather long way from home. Isn’t there an easier way to do this without so much travel? I just need something to tide me over until the busy season,” he looked up to see the lady frowning and added hastily, “but I would be more than happy to put in the effort if there were a real opportunity for me here with Jobs’R’Us.”

The lady looked up at the less-than-jolly man in front of her and nodded. “To be perfectly honest Mr St. Nicholas, we’ve never had to place a double-millenniogenarian before. I am not sure what Mr Scroode in our Pensions Department would have to say about it. However, we can but try.” She smiled encouragingly.

Santa sighed, “It’s been such a long time since I’ve looked for work, I'm usually so busy but times are hard at the moment." The woman nodded in agreement. "There must be a better way than traipsing around World filling in forms?”

The lady responded patiently, “You could have completed the forms online you know.”

“We don’t have the Interweb at home, it’s too far north,” the large man responded uncomfortably -his heavy red coat was making him extremely hot in the centrally heated office.

“Shall I pencil you in for an appointment tomorrow? Say, first thing after lunch?”

Santa shook his head and pointed to one of the sections on the form, “Oh dear, I am sorry but I won’t be able to find any references. You see, all my work so far has been done in secret and on my own. I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“Sorry we could not be of more help. Please help yourself to a sweet on your way out.” She pointed to a large bowl of boiled sweets on her counter.

“No thanks,” said Santa, turning to leave, “I prefer humbugs!”