Me and the Santas

December 13, 2009

Last year I bumped into the mass Santas, by accident, in Leicester Square. You can see me with them here. This year I bumped into the mass Santas, by accident, in Trafalgar Square.

I walked out of Charing Cross station straight into a streaming Strand of Santas. I followed them to the Square, and then I just wandered and mingled and snapped away. Mass Santas are a friendly bunch. They wish you a Happy Christmas and they give you gold coins. But not real gold. Inside is chocolate. Oh, and they like to throw sprouts around. They arrive with sprouts on stalks, pluck them off, and hurl them at each other. Some Santas drink, some smoke. One was smoking a fancy cigarette; perhaps a North Pole special. They dance and kiss and hug, and no one tries to stop them.

Who knows where they come from? Maybe the North Pole. Maybe Facebook.

I stopped by a policeman to ask. He was so young he looked like a little toy figure Santa may bring you to go with your Duplo village. Except he wasn’t that young. He was old enough to know me. Last year I was asked if I was “the man who worked with animals”. This policeman asked me if I used to be on Magpie! Cheeky bastard! How old did he think I was? Sorry… not cheeky bastard. He was very nice. As were all of the three police officers I could see there. They obviously trust the Santas to behave. And, to be the fair, the drunken one who dropped his bottle of beer and smashed it, did do his best to scoot the bits away into a corner with his black-booted foot.

Well done Santas for entertaining yourselves and us.

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