Santa Claus and the wish he could not fulfill

                                                                                    painting by Milen Lichkov

 Santa Claus and the wish he could not fulfill


The evening went well. After all, it was Christmas Eve and it was meant to be a good time.
I rushed from address to address with my old black bicycle.
I had an important role to play on this special day. Perhaps the most important: I was Santa Claus. I was wearing a long red coat and a white wig with a long white beard. I gave the children plenty of presents.

I had 16 families in my golden book. I was not allowed to spend more than 25 minutes with each family. I had 5 minutes to arrive.  I always came into the apartments with a Christmas carol, mostly jingle bells, and had the children show me the Christmas tree and give me a chair. Within the next 15 minutes of staying with the family, I often felt the extent to which love and harmony really existed there. Many families ordered Santa Claus in the hope of replacing the lack of harmony. Many children received far too many presents, which the parents, stressed by their professional life, wanted to compensate for their lack of attention. I had 5 minutes to go while the children unpacked their presents. It was stressful, but also nice to make children happy.
Santa Claus came, sang and left.

I was on my bike and I was able to experience a lot not only at home with the families but also on the way to them. I had a bag full of golden chocolate coins, which I distributed to the children I met on the street.  I knew that Muslim families did not celebrate Christmas and the children from such families played outside. For them the appearance of Santa Claus was a nice change and they often had a snowball fight with me. I usually got some snowballs on my head and several on my body and then had to pedal faster on my bicycle.

When I later crossed the snowy Tiergarten and rested in the silence of the snowy paths from the snowball fight, I heard "Ho Ho Ho Singing" loudly from the loudspeaker. I turned around and saw a police car standing there. The cops made fun of me too.

With difficulty I reached my last address. It was not far from Ku'damm. There was an only child. A boy. The mother was about 40, with long, straight, dark hair and a tight dress that accentuated her voluptuous forms. The apartment was tastefully decorated. Beautiful modern pictures decorated the walls. A sculpture of a horse could be seen in the hallway. White candles were burning everywhere and gave the room a Christmas atmosphere. I handed over the presents to the boy. He sang a song. Then I fulfilled the wishes that his mother had expressed on the phone before. The boy should learn to sleep alone in his room. The boy should be able to stay overnight with his father from time to time. The mother used the authority of Santa Claus to make her freedom wider. Most families did this.

When I said goodbye, she handed me the envelope with my fee by the door and said to me
"Maybe Santa would like to stay for a glass of Champagne?"
I looked at her. Her dress was long and tight. It had a wide neckline. Her breasts were big and inviting, like two small watermelons. I thought at first whether I should accept this as a gift. First to make the child happy, an then his mother. That would be a successful Christmas mission. Then I thought about what I had told the boy before and what an impression it would make on him to see Santa Claus with a glass of champagne with his mom and politely declined.
"Gladly, my dear child, but Santa Claus still has many children to make happy and must move on. Merry Christmas!"
Actually this was my last address and I was very hungry. There was a lot of delicious food left on the table and the mother did not look bad at all. After all Santa Claus was just a man and he needed two things to be happy: good food and good sex.  He had just given up sex, but he wouldn't say no to good food.

With such thoughts I left the apartment, changed in the stairwell of the building, packed the Santa outfit in the empty gift bag and went outside. It was cold and there was a lot of snow on the streets of Berlin. Everything was closed and I was happy when I saw an open, Turkish snack bar. My bag was full of banknotes. That day I had earned almost 400 Euros. Now I could treat myself to a delicious, warm meal. Good thing the Turks didn't celebrate Christmas and had their kebab stores open.  There were no people in them - except for a young black girl. She was slim and her bottom looked like a beautiful walnut. Only a girl's butt could look like that in Africa. She looked at the wall. On it were all the dishes and their prices. I saw how she counted her coins and thought about whether she could afford to eat.
"What will it be?" asked the Turk. He was wearing a white shirt and proudly wore a moustache.
She was embarrassed at first. Then she decided not to eat. Before she turned around, I interfered:
"Today is Christmas and I am the Santa Claus. You're invited for dinner tonight. Order what you like and I'll take care of the check."
She looked at me with a mixture between skepticism and positive surprise. She had a beautiful face with big, black eyes. She must have thought I was a crazy person.
I pointed to my gift bag in which I had the costume and said:
"Do you see that sack?! It is full of money. Don't worry, just order!"
She smiled and we ordered our Christmas dinner together.
It was a successful Christmas Eve.

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