“We were given a demonstration of various positions in action, acted out by returning elves, who were so onstage and goofy that it made me a little sick to my stomach. I don’t know that I could look anyone in the eye and exclaim: Oh, my goodness, I think I see Santa. Or: can you close your eyes and make a very special Christmas wish?”
David Sedaris – Santaland Diaries
I spent forty minutes today in Macy’s lining up, along with hundreds of other parents, for the privilege of handing over my precious newborn to a garishly dressed stranger for a quick photo-op.
I assume my daughter enjoyed it. She appeared to be captivated by the lights and animatronics and generally spaced out as if on her own little baby LSD trip.
More prosaically, I spent the time thinking about those poor souls who found themselves working as elves and how true their experiences have been to David Sedaris’s in Santaland Diaries. They all seemed overwhelmingly young, a handful of them somewhat magnificently still maintaining a sense of Brooklyn hipness despite the costumes. Indeed, they should be thankful that they live in the age of the hipster; elf-appropriate breeches and stockings wouldn’t look entirely out of place in a Williamsburg bar on a Friday night.