Copyright 1998, 2008 by David Sedaris
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Little, Brown and Company
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First eBook Edition: April 2009
Seasons Greetings to Our Friends and Family!!! and SantaLand Diaries previously appeared in Barrel Fever; Dinah, the Christmas Whore previously appeared in Naked; Jesus Shaves previously appeared in slightly different form in Me Talk Pretty One Day; Us and Them, Let It Snow, and Six to Eight Black Men previously appeared in Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim; and The Monster Mash previously appeared in When You Are Engulfed in Flames.
Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group USA, Inc. The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group USA, Inc.
ISBN: 978-0-316-07363-9
Also by David Sedaris
Barrel Fever
Naked
Me Talk Pretty One Day
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim
When You Are Engulfed in Flames
To Ira Glass
I was in a coffee shop looking through the want ads when I read, Macys Herald Square, the largest store in the world, has big opportunities for outgoing, fun-loving people of all shapes and sizes who want more than just a holiday job! Working as an elf in Macys SantaLand means being at the center of the excitement.
I circled the ad and then I laughed out loud at the thought of it. The man seated next to me turned on his stool, checking to see if I was a lunatic. I continued to laugh, quietly. Yesterday I applied for a job at UPS. They are hiring drivers helpers for the upcoming Christmas season and I went to their headquarters filled with hope. In line with three hundred other men and women my hope diminished. During the brief interview I was asked why I wanted to work for UPS and I answered that I wanted to work for UPS because I like the brown uniforms. What did they expect me to say?
Id like to work for UPS because, in my opinion, its an opportunity to showcase my substantial leadership skills in one of the finest private delivery companies this country has seen since the Pony Express!
I said I liked the uniforms and the UPS interviewer turned my application facedown on his desk and said, Give me a break.
I came home this afternoon and checked the machine for a message from UPS but the only message I got was from the company that holds my student loan, Sallie Mae. Sallie Mae sounds like a naive and barefoot hillbilly girl but in fact they are a ruthless and aggressive conglomeration of bullies located in a tall brick building somewhere in Kansas. I picture it to be the tallest building in that state and I have decided they hire their employees straight out of prison. It scares me.
The woman at Macys asked, Would you be interested in full-time elf or evening and weekend elf?
I said, Full-time elf.
I have an appointment next Wednesday at noon.
I am a thirty-three-year-old man applying for a job as an elf.
I often see people on the streets dressed as objects and handing out leaflets. I tend to avoid leaflets but it breaks my heart to see a grown man dressed as a taco. So, if there is a costume involved, I tend not only to accept the leaflet, but to accept it graciously, saying, Thank you so much, and thinking, You poor, pathetic son of a bitch. I dont know what you have but I hope I never catch it. This afternoon on Lexington Avenue I accepted a leaflet from a man dressed as a camcorder. Hot dogs, peanuts, tacos, video cameras, these things make me sad because they dont fit in on the streets. In a parade, maybe, but not on the streets. I figure that at least as an elf I will have a place; Ill be in Santas Village with all the other elves. We will reside in a fluffy wonderland surrounded by candy canes and gingerbread shacks. It wont be quite as sad as standing on some street corner dressed as a french fry.
I am trying to look on the bright side. I arrived in New York three weeks ago with high hopes, hopes that have been challenged. In my imagination Id go straight from Penn Station to the offices of One Life to Live, where I would drop off my bags and spruce up before heading off for drinks with Cord Roberts and Victoria Buchannon, the shows greatest stars. Wed sit in a plush booth at a tony cocktail lounge where my new celebrity friends would lift their frosty glasses in my direction and say, A toast to David Sedaris, the best writer this show has ever had!!!
Id say, You guys, cut it out. It was my plan to act modest.
People at surrounding tables would stare at us, whispering, Isnt that ? Isnt that ?
I might be distracted by their enthusiasm and Victoria Buchannon would lay her hand over mine and tell me that Id better get used to being the center of attention.
But instead I am applying for a job as an elf. Even worse than applying is the very real possibility that I will not be hired, that I couldnt even find work as an elf. Thats when you know youre a failure.
This afternoon I sat in the eighth-floor SantaLand office and was told, Congratulations, Mr. Sedaris. You are an elf.
In order to become an elf I filled out ten pages worth of forms, took a multiple choice personality test, underwent two interviews, and submitted urine for a drug test. The first interview was general, designed to eliminate the obvious sociopaths. During the second interview we were asked why we wanted to be elves. This is always a problem question. I listened as the woman ahead of me, a former waitress, answered the question, saying, I really want to be an elf? Because I think its about acting? And before this I worked in a restaurant? Which was run by this really wonderful woman who had a dream to open a restaurant? And it made me realize that its really really important to have a dream?
Everything this woman said, every phrase and sentence, was punctuated with a question mark and the interviewer never raised an eyebrow.
When it was my turn I explained that I wanted to be an elf because it was one of the most frightening career opportunities I had ever come across. The interviewer raised her face from my application and said, And ?
Im certain that I failed my drug test. My urine had roaches and stems floating in it, but still they hired me because I am short, five feet five inches. Almost everyone they hired is short. One is a dwarf. After the second interview I was brought to the managers office, where I was shown a floor plan. On a busy day twenty-two thousand people come to visit Santa, and I was told that it is an elfs lot to remain merry in the face of torment and adversity. I promised to keep that in mind.
I spent my eight-hour day with fifty elves and one perky, well-meaning instructor in an enormous Macys classroom, the walls of which were lined with NCR 2152s. A 2152, I have come to understand, is a cash register. The class was broken up into study groups and given assignments. My group included several returning elves and a few experienced cashiers who tried helping me by saying things like, Dont you even know your personal ID code? Jesus, I had mine memorized by ten oclock.
Everything about the cash register intimidates me. Each procedure involves a series of codes: separate numbers for cash, checks, and each type of credit card. The term