I used to work and live in New York City, back in 2002. It was an OK job, but what I liked most were the hours and the availability. One day (my friend's birthday, as a matter of fact), I decided to head up to said friend's apartment with a bottle of wine and a small gift I had picked up earlier in the week, to leave it at the door for when they arrived home. I called the elevator, and waited for the car to stop at the lobby. Once the doors opened, I quickly scooted in and hit the button for the 32nd floor. The doors closed, and the elevator rose smoothly and quietly, with soft music playing from the speakers. It took me several moments to realize that I wasn't alone in the car, and, not wanting to seem like your average unfriendly New Yorker, turned and said "Hello."

The stranger before me looked to be one of the volunteers that waits on the street corners and in front of outlet stores, dressed in Santa suits, accepting donations for the Red Cross. He merely smiled, and went back to watching the numbers slowly climb on the display above the doors. I wasn't one for awkward silences, so I pressed, "How are things?"

He replied, "Busier now that we're only a few months away from Christmas, but nothing I haven't handled hundreds of times in the past." I laughed at his quick and witty reaction. "Santa, eh?" I asked jokingly.

"Yeah."

I hesitated for a moment. He sounded so sure of himself, so.....it couldn't be, right? "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I deliver toys." Ironic, yes, I thought to myself. This guy was good. I decided then and there to get him to crack, to lose the act, to slip up. "Now, I 'know' you're Santa, but, just for kicks, why don't you prove it?" Before I could so much as blink, the man was holding a large leather-bound book.

"Your name is Timothy James Klein, born in Toledo, to Mark and Susan Klein, and this Christmas you want a better apartment, in the building next to this one, on the 15th floor."

I was stunned. Everything he had said was absolutely true. "How did you learn all that?" I asked with a hint of doubt in my voice.

He popped a squat and said to me, "I'm freakin' Santa Clause.  Get with the program.  That, and you might want to brace yourself." I started to ask what he was talking about when the elevator jammed to a stop, sending me sprawling. After a few moments, the lights dimmed, and I opened the phone box. I called into the speaker, "Hello? It looks like the elevator's stopped."

Moments later, a mechanical voice said to us, "Wow....sorry guys, but it looks like we can't get a repairman in until early tomorrow. Looks like you're stuck in there until then. Good luck!"

I made a sudden decision, and opened up the bottle of wine. "Alright Mr. Clause, let's have a heart to heart. It looks like we've got a while in here together, so we might as well enjoy it."

Over the course of several hours, Santa loosened up, thanks mainly to the wine bottle he was religiously holding in his hand and guzzling from. In that amount of time, I learned much about the bearded old man that isn't included in children's books and bedtime stories. What I heard was much, MUCH more interesting.

*** *** ****

   "I never wanted to be the Clause originally" Santa began in a slightly slurred monotone. "We all were up in Heaven, beings just recently created at the beginning of Time. Jesus had explained to us the different positions in the world to come, and because we couldn't all agree on who got what, we had a contest. The first: shots. Yeah, I didn't do so well on those, got about three and passed out. These are heavenly shots, mind you, not the crap you have here on earth. Anyway, the winner of that one ended up being the Lucky Charms mascot. That's why the Irish hold their liquor so well.....And let me tell you, in those commercials, they don't show you what he does to those kids for stealing his lucky charms, oh no. It involves some rope and a power drill...I'm not going to go into it.

   "So, the next contest was a race. That, I also sucked at, being as large as I am. Try running the length of the Amazon river against the guy slated to be the Easter Bunny. Yeah, you know what he's doing now? Now that the parents are taking over Easter duties, he takes speed and jumps around a bunch. It's great for him, but the rest of us higher beings laugh at him.  He's kind of a loser.

  "The third and final contest pits me up against the only remaining guy left. We're supposed to ski across the north pole, swim across the atlantic ocean, and march through the Congo. At the end, there are two magical beings, small elves waiting with different magical objects that will endow us with powers used in our soon-to-be-positions. We start the race, and I'm doing pretty well, until, once we reach the Congo, the other guy trips me up and ties me to a tree. It takes several hours to chew through the vines, but I manage, and when I get to the clearing with the elves, only one remains. Over on the other side, is Jimmy Hoffa, beaming proudly.

  "So, I walk up to my elf, and, instead of handing me a cool magical item, he puts a collar around my neck. He said, 'This is a magical collar. It signifies you as the lowest of the low in terms of magical beings--you are the public servant. You will deliver toys to children all over the world in LESS THAN 8 HOURS!!!!! And you'll do it every year until the end of days. Now, we elves will control your every waking moment, courtesy of this shock collar. You will be the public mascot, yes, but the real power lies with us.'

   "And so it did. I carried out every order each of those twits gave me for thousands of years, until today. People may think I'm the man in charge, but that's not the case. Those elves are small, but they're violent. They whip me. Mrs. Clause even whips me. It's hardly fair, and I thought it was time I appealed for a better position--I've got my rights with the Union, you know."

After this long narrative, I asked Santa a question that had been pressing upon my mind for several hours. "Santa--if all this is true, why are you here in this apartment building, now?"

Santa looked at me and said calmly, "Heaven does a lot of it's main work in this building--up in Heaven, they've got the golden roads, the angelic choirs, etc., and they didn't want offices cluttering up the place and making it look bad. So, they put two of these offices here on Earth, to save space and time."

"Where's the other one?"

"Canada--it's all one big office. Why do you think you get free medicine, legal drugs, and clean parks all in one country? It's too good to be a part of this world."

Thus, Santa got a better job as a clerk in a local law office, and I learned the true meaning of Christmas.

Fin.