transcript:
âSo we have these Santas at work, right, okay? We have black and we have white Santas. And theyâre like creepy, five-foot tall, lifelike animatronic⌠like, Santas that hold plates of cookies and milk, and they kinda look like they could wake up and come to life and murder you in your sleepâ and they donât include batteries, but we have these Santas. Like nothing screams âfestive holiday cheerâ like a big, hulking Santa. Um. Nothinâ will jingle your jangles more.
So, um, this woman comes in and sheâs like, âDo you have these?â and Iâm like, âOh my god, yeah!â So a couple weeks ago we sold out of our white Santas, and we are down to like, three black Santas. And so, I take her to the aisle, I show her the Santas, and the first thing out of her mouth is, âIâm not racist, butâŚâ and Iâm like, well, I canâtâ Iâm not in the position to decide if you are or not, but if likeâ if I could use context clues and infer, uh, I would say maybe that you might be. And three, weâre talking about Santa. Likeâ (stuttering) did we switch subjects?
And so, um, Iâm in like, Iâ the next thing that pops out of her mouth is like, âThis is not right.â and Iâm like, okay, Iâm sorry, but this is what the picture was. And sheâs like, âNo. Santa is white.â And Iâm like, oh no, okay. Okay. So Iâm inâ Iâm about to tell her, Iâm like, mid-sentence, like, âIâm sorry, do you want me to go call another store, do you need me to, like, write you a raincheck just in case we we get any more.â And sheâs like, âThis is wrong, I want them taken down.â She interrupts me, says that, and Iâm like, (pause). I like, look around, and Iâm like, is she talking to me? Is this, like, my own, like, personal hell? But like, of course it is.
So, um, Iâm like, âI canât take these Santas down.â And sheâs like, âWhy not?!â And Iâm like, âYou either have to buy them, or take them down yourself.â And that was like, the stupidest thing I could have ever said, becauseâ (sighs) she takes this bag, with like, Jesusâs face, like, slammed right in the middle as a designâ itâs bigâ she takes it off her shoulder, and starts beating these black Santas! She starts beating these Santas down, they were like, falling down⌠and Iâm like, oh my god! Whatâ what is happening?
So like, I step in the middle of her and these Santas and Iâm like, âMaâam, maâam, you need to leave, you need to stop, or Iâm going to have to call someone.â So she like, stops, and sheâs like, beet red, and like, huffinâ and puffinâ, and she like, looks at me and I can tell sheâs just trying to get like, a one-liner in, and sheâs like, âThe Santa I know is white.â And then she walks away. And Iâm like, wellâ Iâm processing whatâs happening, while also thinking, like, the Santa you know? Santaâs not real. So unless youâre using an ouija board to contact good old Kris Kringle, um, from like, B.C. or whenever, Iâm like, thatâs pretty impressive, but how ya doinâ that. And, um, Iâ the last thought that ran through my mind is that, Iâm like, I would hate to be in the room with her when she finds out that Jesus is not white.â