A Fleet of Santas: An Odd Christmas Experience in Baltimore

Several years ago, almost enough to be called many, my then partner and I went to Baltimore somewhere in the Christmas season. I suppose it was early December, but truthfully, I don't recall. What I do know is that we went to a bar called the Red Star, entering just as the sun went over the yard arm, as he used to say. I forget what it means, or the origin of the expression, but it definitely means it is now the appropriate time to drink. It was around 4pm and close to dusk in the way that dusk lasts for hours in the winter, thanks not just to the earth's orbit but the cold and the clouds.

I cannot recall what we drank, although I suspect that he had beer, and at that time, I probably had wine, although I can't be sure. I do remember that other than the staff with their funny "can you guess what I did last night" t-shirts, we were the only people there, and that we ordered a bowl of incredible peel-and-eat garlic shrimp for $4.95.

As we sat there, quiet from the day, warming up, loving the garlic and not talking about much of anything, probably because we didn't know where to begin (our relationship was always frought), a fleet of perhaps 20 or so Santas came in.

The head Santa ordered "beards down!" and they all pulled off their fake beards, hanging them around their necks. Beer was ordered and they drank a good bit, occasionally singing seasonal songs, occasionally telling stories, one or two swearing, someone telling a sex story not as quietly as they thought.

My then partner, being the man he is, started a conversation with one of them, and we learned that they had just graduated from Santa school and were now off to work in malls or do whatever it is that Santas do this time of year.

They finished their beer and the head Santa shouted "beards up!" and they recomposed themselves and then marched out the door, all in a line, singing Jingle Bells.

We looked at each other and smiled. I at least (and for the sake of the story, he too), was in love with everything. We shook our heads, sipped our drinks, and chatted with the staff. Someone said screenplay, everyone just smiled.

Eventually, we went out into the chill night air of Baltimore, and, unless I'm confusing two trips, which is entirely possible, we went to some live music venue, and, as was common on our adventures, I imagined living somewhere other than New York City.

While my life and the people in it are entirely different now, that day will always be symbolic of holiday magic for me, as it is always, to me, entirely about serendipity and absurdity.