MACY’S SANTA

MACY’S SANTA

 

I was four years old.

My Aunt Anna took me to Macy’s to meet Santa Claus – in person!

I was shaking with excitement for weeks before.

I wrote, re-wrote and re-wrote my wish list. I did not want it to be too long or Santa might not fill it at all; too short and I probably would not get all I wanted.

At this point, I should point out that Aunt Anna was an avowed spinster who had no use for men. Male children, on the other hand, were another story – especially me! She dragged me everywhere: the zoo, movies, Broadway shows, parades – literally everywhere; seeing Santa was just another Aunt Anna treat.

I got up at the crack of dawn. I couldn’t sleep. Visions of Santa coming down the chimney filled my head. Strange? Our apartment had no fireplace. It was just a minor problem that the bearded one would easily solve.

We took the D train downtown. It was one of my favorite things as I would stand in front of the first car, making sure the driver knew where he was going.

Macy’s exit was 34^th Street. By now I was filled with excitement and expectation. Meeting Santa – wow!

We finally arrived on Santa’s floor. My aunt purchased a ticket (yeah, you had to pay to play). There was a line of probably thousands, at least as I saw it, all waiting to see the jolly old man. Every kid on that line was keeping me from seeing the bearded one. On top of all that, the line inched along very, very slowly. Snails move faster!

What seemed like days later, I achieved second place on line!  Only one kid in front of me, keeping me from my stated goal. I had hoped that his toy list would be very short.

Finally, this little kid got on Santa’s lap and promptly pulled off his beard! Two “elves” acted quickly and firmly removed the poor kid from the area. With Santa gone for repairs, I was left stranded in front of his empty ‘throne’.

An elderly woman, allegedly, Santa’s wife, led me and the others stranded on the line to yet another line. She told us that Santa was sorry, but he just had to rest. I saw that kid pull off Sant’s beard and, besides, Santa never needs rest! Just what was going on?

The new line was for my ‘gift from Santa’. I couldn’t wait to get home and open it. The disappointment of not seeing the red-suited one slowly dissipated during the subway ride home.

At home, I quickly tore open my present. It was a model airplane kit, consisting of a million pieces of balsa wood! On the carton were the words: “For those eight years old and older”. I didn’t qualify.

After all this, it is amazing that I didn’t stop believing that Santa existed.

Just to get some measure of revenge, I did not leave any cookies or milk for his expected visit!