Tales from the Santa Claus Tavern - Part 2

The department store Santa was nowhere to be found.

“What do you mean he’s not back yet?” said the store manager. “Where’d he go?”

“He went on break,” said the assistant manager. “And he never came back.”

Some department store Santas are more down on their luck than others.

“You’re here pretty early tonight,” said the bartender at the Santa Claus Tavern. “Don’t tell me. You dumped the sleigh and decided it just wasn’t for you.”

“You could work a booth at Coney Island reading minds the way you do,” said the Santa. “It’s just seeing all those kids all day long that gets to me. Between the snot and the poop and the pee, my poor nose, and stomach, couldn’t take it no more. I’m very sensitive, you know. And my poor ears! All those crying babies. You bring a new babe into the world and then ya stick ‘em in front of a guy that looks like me. What do you expect’s gonna happen? Next year I think I’ll be an elf.”

“What are you talking,” said the bartender. “An elf? They ain’t got no elf taverns that I know of. Where else would ya go on Christmas Eve? You wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure. And I’d sorely miss your company. Come on, think it over. Things are tough out there. You can’t afford to lose the income. I think you should go back and face the music. Tell them ya lost track a time or something. Tell them any kind of lie you want. You don’t need that kind of reputation in the neighborhood. People talk. Go on. I’ll keep your beer on ice and your whiskey nice and warm. They’ll be waitin’ for ya when you get back.”

Without taking a sip, the santa put the shot glass back on the bar.

“Right then,” he said. “Sometimes a guy just needs a little breather. I’ll see ya later.”