Here’s today’s Christmas short story. I hope you enjoy!

“Watcha have?”

I glanced at the shelves behind the bartender. “You got any eggnog?”

The tall lady raised an eyebrow.

I sighed and rubbed my face. “Just a Coke, please.”

She grinned and grabbed a glass as an older, grizzled man sat beside me. “You look festive,” he said while he pointed at me and held up two fingers. The bartender returned with two Cokes.

“I don’t feel festive.”

“The name’s Tim. What’s yours?”

I didn’t feel in the mood for smalltalk, either, but I sensed that Tim wasn’t going to leave me alone. I, however, didn’t want to explain the uniqueness of my name (Aloysius Frankincense Robbins), so I just said, “Al.”

“Good to meet you, Al.”

“Same to you.” I took a sip and nearly spat as the fizz burned my throat. It was the strangest sensation I had felt. No wonder the old man banned carbonated beverages. Yet, I also kind of liked it.

“Why so dour, especially this close to Christmas?”

I glanced at the man. “You really want to know?”

“I’m told I’m a good listener.” Tim smiled.

“I quit my job,” I said with a sad chuckle. “It was stupid, too. I was good at what I did, the best even, and the benefits were great.”

“What happened?”

“Sometimes the monotony gets to me,” I answered. “I wash tights. Every day–red, green, white, sparkly, tights, tights, tights, thousands of tights. It gets old but it also gives me time to think. It’s just that me and my girlfriend had an argument and it gave me too much time to think, I guess. So, I started throwing tights all over the place, screaming how much I hated everything. I didn’t mean it but others were staring at me, including the boss, and I stormed out and told them where they could shove the tights.”

“That’s not good.”

“No.” I sighed. “I didn’t really hate my job. I was even offered a move to the toy line a few years ago but I turned it down, even though it’s supposed to be every el… er… person’s dream.”

“Would you go back, if you could?”

My eyes lit up. “Absolutely!”

The grizzled man smiled. “Well, Aloysius, why don’t you?”

I scrunched my face. “How do you know my name?”

The man began to laugh. His laugh echoed louder as he tossed back his head and placed his hands on his bulging belly. His beard grew longer and lights swirled around him. The tattered clothes he wore morphed into a red and white suit. “Ha ha ha! Ho ho ho!” His laugh became his famous bellow.

“Santa!” I exclaimed.

He winked. “We’ve missed you, Aloysius. It’s only been three days, I know, but the elves trying to replace you don’t have a clue what they’re doing. It takes a special person to handle delicate laundry. Merrywinkle has even shrunk three pairs of Mrs. Klaus’ unmentionables. I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of that. We need you.”

“You really want me back?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Of course! Christmas is about giving and forgiving, as the Good Lord taught us. So, what do you say? Donner and Blitzen are waiting out back with the sleigh.”

I smiled. “Can I finish my Coke first?”

©2020 Michael Bergman

Image by: unsplash.com/@polarmermaid