Santa Service

Five minutes to midnight on Christmas Eve.  After downing half a dozen spiked eggnogs, I woke up from a nice doze and yawned, my mouth wider than a pelican’s beak chugging a menhaden.  I was groggy, but hey, it was time to shop for a few gifts.  I wasn’t worried.  A little late, but I’d always been a last minute shopper.

Pushing Midnight on Christmas Eve and You Haven't Bought One Gift? Call Santa Service! Share on X

Surely, Amazon would pull this off, right?  Next day delivery?  Isn’t that what Amazon Prime is all about?

Only it wasn’t.  The last day of next day delivery was the previous day.  Not even the power of Prime could help me now.  What I needed was a delivery service with capabilities beyond even the mighty Prime, yet as far as I knew nothing like that existed.

Beyond Prime

As I mulled the situation, my phone buzzed.  Text message, but I didn’t recognize the number.  Who would text me at this hour?  A friend wishing me “Merry Christmas”?  My mother telling me to get to bed?  I tapped the screen and the message opened:

Christmas Eve and you’re in a bind?

Need presents delivered Christmas Day?

Call Santa Service!

Presents delivered on time.  Guaranteed!

Santa Service?  Was this a joke?  I took another look at the number.  A “999” country code followed by a “999” area code?  What is that?  Another message pinged:

It’s the North Pole.

The North Pole?  Are you kidding?  Someone was messing with me.  Still…   Even if someone was messing, did I have a choice?  If they could actually deliver my presents, it would be worth it.  At this point, I had nothing to lose.

How did it work?  Why had I never heard of it before?  Could this be the miraculous delivery service I was seeking?  Ping!

This is the miraculous delivery service you’ve been seeking.

My dream had come true.

Santa Service Never Fails

A few screen taps later, I’d placed the call and a tinny voice answered:

“Santa Service, can I help you?”

“I hope so.  I need to have some gifts delivered by tomorrow morning.”

“Glover, right?”

“Yeah.  How’d you know-?”

“No gifts purchased for wife or daughter.  Approximately seven hours before the little one wakes up.”  His voice – though I couldn’t be sure it was a “him” – squeaked on.  “You’re really cutting it close this year, bub.”

Bub?  Did he just call me ‘bub’?  I hadn’t been ‘bubbed’ in years.  I didn’t care.  It was getting late and I was getting nervous.  “Do you think you can help?”

“It’s what we do.  Santa Service never fails to deliver.”

“What’s it cost?”

“Seriously?”

“No.  Never mind.”

“Just make sure the milk and cookies are in the usual spot.”

I couldn’t believe my luck.  A special delivery Christmas Eve all for the price of glass of milk and a few cookies?  What did I do to deserve this?

And All Through the House…

Having handled the Christmas shopping, did I show restraint?  Moderation?  Did I go to bed?  Heck no.  I had another rum-soaked egg nog and put on the Hallmark channel.  After about fifteen minutes of nog and Hallmark, I fell asleep in my chair.

How long was I out?  I’m not sure, but I woke up to the crinkle of wrapping paper and moving shadows in the parlor.  The glow from the multi-colored lights dimmed and flared as a figure moved around the tree.

I shook my head and forced open my eyes.  “Lana?”  The crinkling didn’t stop.  A little louder: “Lana, is that you?”

In a moment, the door to the foyer filled with the overwhelming presence of a colossal man, whose girth nearly spanned the opening.  He had propped his fists against his gut and, without a trace of humor, said, “Ho ho ho.”

Santa Service Delivers

Either this guy was a right jolly old elf, or I was about to call the police.  “Who the heck are you?” I asked.

He stretched out his arms, palms up.  “You’re joking, right?  You order Santa service?”

“You’re Santa?”

“Who else?”

He had me there.  I couldn’t muster a response.

Santa checked his watch.  “Mind if I get back to work?”

I shook my head, hoping it would also shake loose the cobwebs.  “No, sir.  Don’t let me get in your way.”

He snuffed.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t.”  He turned around and disappeared back into the parlor.  “But don’t go anywhere,” he went on.  “You and I have to talk.”

Nothing to Dread?

That didn’t sound good.  What could Santa possibly have to say to me?  I kept the spirit of Christmas in my heart.  I liked egg nog, peppermint bark, and sparkling cider.  I watched Christmas cartoons every year.  What had I done wrong?

Ten minutes later, Santa plunked down on the couch and snatched one of my wife’s chocolate chip cookies.  Between chews, he said, “Your wife makes a good cookie.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “I’ll let her know.  By the way, you want the recliner?”  I leaned forward, ready to get up.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

The elf seemed more like his jolly old self.  He leaned forward.  “Look, son,” he said, “you’re going to have to get serious about Christmas.”

“What?”

“This last minute shopping has got to stop.  I’m too old for this.”

“How old are you?”

“Never mind.”

“All right, Santa.  I promise.  I’ll try.”

“I hope so.”  He nodded at my glass.  “Now pour me one of those egg nogs before I hit the road.”

To All a Good Night

When I finally crawled up to bed, I was a happy man.  I hadn’t lifted a finger, presents were under the bed, and I’d had an actual conversation with Santa.  As far as I was concerned, Santa Service was a hit.  And that Santa?  A heckuva’ guy, though I probably should have taken the reins to his sleigh away after that last spiked nog.

All was well in the Glover household.  And next year, I would definitely get a head start on my shopping.  Anyone else need his number?