No Fat Chicks in Heaven

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to hang out with Santa Claus. He must hate everybody. Looking down at us from the North Pole, a bunch of pathetic fools hoping he'll give them some toys once a year. I bet he has a great time the other 364 days a year. Just hanging out with his elves and fucking Mrs. Claus. Chillin with his reindeer. No one buggin him up there except maybe when a nuclear submarine floats by or some Norwegians get lost. I bet he just comes to deliver toys once a year so he can remind himself just how sad and stupid the bulk of humanity is, and maybe stare at some girls who sleep in the nude.

So I was thinking that when I saw the Salvation Army lady standing all by herself next to her bucket. She looked lonely so I went to talk to her, even though she wasn't dressed like Santa, and didn't even have a bell.

"Where's your Santa costume?" I asked.

She laughed. "Oh we don't do that anymore, but I do have the belly!"

I smiled. She was fat. "Yeah," I said.

She then stroked her chin, "I have a beard too. Ha ha!"

I looked closely, and sure as shit she had a downy white chin. Jesus fucking christ. I knew I should not have violated my rule of never conversing with any woman over 22.

She chuckled some more as I stood there astonished. "Got the beard and the belly!" She rubbed her belly in a happy circle. "I've had this belly for 40 years!"

I nodded at her. Why was she still talking to me?

"Ever since I had my daughter. Belly never went away after that. I exercised but my husband laughed at me, so I said, if you're going to laugh I'm not gonna exercise no more! Ha ha!"

I looked around for police or a passing psychiatrist. "That's tellin him."

"Ha ha! Yeah! A year later he left me."

"Oh."

"When I asked him why, he said, "you're fat"."

I noticed her bucket was empty. I wondered if she took all the money to buy booze. I would not have blamed her.

"Just me and my daughter now...and her asshole boyfriend."

"Oh."

"He calls me fat too. But I just tell him to go get a fucking job. He has a kid with my daughter you know. And she has a kid from another guy."

"Interesting."

"But not me, I'm through having kids and through with men."

"Yeah?"

"After I caught my last boyfriend sleeping with my sister, yeah. Ha ha! Real Jerry Springer moment huh?"

I wondered if I could kill her with one mighty blow from her bucket. She kept talking and my gaze went from her lips to her downy chin to her belly. I winced, and thought of Santa, probably looking at me and laughing, a hot little elf on his lap and some mutton in his beard. He was no fool that Santa.