A thought just occurred to me: Being a mall Santa has got to be one of the worst jobs ever. Just think about it. You get to sit there for 5-7 hours listening to little kids tell you their every want. If I had to do that, I think I'd get so annoyed that somebody just might explode, and by somebody, I mean probably me.
Not to mention, your face is probably paralyzed from smiling for pictures, so your stuck with a grin on your face. Just think what might happen if a little kid tells you their goldfish died and they want a new one. Sad kid+Perma-grinning Santa=awkward situation. And that's putting it bluntly.
Another thing you'd have to deal with is the bratty kid who wants everything in the known universe. And I mean everything-- iPad, a planet, their very own ball of flaming hydrogen, aka a star, the whole she-bang.
And then there's the kid who attacks the elves. *shudder, shudder*. Or the kid who ate too much and decides to "redecorate" your suit.Yeah, isn't that pleasant.
But I guess there's a good side to being a Santa helper. I mean little kids everywhere adore you. And one time at the mall when I went to get my nails done, Santa came in for a "men's manicure". Yes, you can laugh. One of the employees were like, "Are you really Santa?" and he's like, "I dunno. That's what my license says," and shows her his drivers' license. That is what I call a Pwn.
But still, it's a bad job. At least in my opinion.
Cheese Face out.
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