At first I just saw one, walking past me on 8th avenue. He was a skinny santa, with stubble and dark shadows and a flimsy beard. Then behind him, another two. One was a woman, the other was a fat, drunk, screaming guy.
I walked on.
Until I reached Penn Station and saw the motherload. Hundreds and hundreds of Santas. Drunk. Walking en masse. Like red and white fluffy cockroaches. Some of them chanting that "ole ole ole ole" song. One guy thought it was cute to dress as Satan and keep saying "oops." They clogged the sidewalks and streets. Looking at the faces of other shocked onlookers, I feared what my facial reaction was.
A little girl screamed "Daddy! Which one's the real Santa?"
"Just keep walking sweetie. Don't touch the Santas."
I don't know what trouble they're getting into, or what they're up to. And now that I think about it, maybe it was SantaCon. I first read of this drunken Santa mob in Fugitives and Refugees a nonfiction Portland guidebook penned by Fight Club author Chuck Palahniuk. I always assumed they were a Portland-only fiasco. And now I wonder - is this THE SantaCon? Or is it a bunch of drunken d-bags from NYC imitating the SantaCon?
If anyone has any other information on the Santa epidemic, it would be much appreciated.
No, that was THE SantaCon. It's a national epidemic, doncha know.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.santacon.com/