The mall opened at 8AM, but even then, the line was usually somewhat long. And even if there weren’t a line, there would still be people around. After weeks of observation, I deduced that the optimal time would be a Thursday at 7PM, just before closing. So about, gosh, 2 months ago at this point, I made my move. On that unassuming winter evening, I made my way to Brunswick Plaza just before ‘Santa’ — real name Michael Kelly, age 76 — ended his shift. 

There was not a soul in that mall but him and I. Every store was closed and there was hardly any light. But I saw him. Plump, and jolly as ever, hoisted high on his Santa chair. He sat in the middle of the — is atrium the right word? The big empty room in the mall where you can see high up and there’s a wide floor. He was in the middle. All alone.

I walked up to him. He looked up at me. “How can I help you, son?” He asked. I could hardly get the words out. I leaned up close to his ear, and whispered my proposition. I pulled a 20 dollar bill out of my pocket.

I wanted — no, needed — Santa to sit on my lap, not the other way around. I hadn’t been able to get that fantasy out of my head for years, and I feared that the only way to free myself of this perverted curse was to will it into existence. 

He obliged. I knew he would. He had fallen short on rent for 3 consecutive months and was desperate. He stood up, and I took his place. 

With one swift motion he sat on my lap. He beckoned to me, asking if I was alright, if he was crushing me. Even if I wanted to talk, I couldn’t. All the air had been forced from my lungs, and I could only inhale small gasps through his thick, red coat. And he was crushing me, but that’s what my body demanded. It’s what I needed. His behind weighing upon my sack of presents. The back of his neck smelt like cookies. Everything was warm … like cookies. 

Anyways, my break was super fun and I feel rested and ready for this next semester! I ordered my textbooks and I think I’m gonna join some clubs this week.