Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

I stopped listening and fooled around with some stuffed animals on the mantel. When I turned back
around, the men were on their way out the door. “And, hey, Santa,” one of them said. “Look after our
boys in the Gulf, will you?”
He said it with such gooey poignancy. Santa and I laughed merrily after they’d left.
The elf I share a locker with, Keith, invited me to his Bible-study group tomorrow night.
December 7, 1990
New York
Lily and I saw a warning poster outside a small theater that read THIS PLAY WILL LEAVE YOU FEELING
SAD AND EMPTY.
I led a five-year-old boy to Santa’s door and said, “Look at all the toys my master has.”
The kid was small but sophisticated. “I’ve got more toys than that. To tell you the truth,” he said,
“I’m very spoiled.”
I got yelled at twice today, once when I was working as an entrance elf. The job amounts to hustling
up visitors, and I thought I did a pretty good job. “Patronize Santa,” I said. “Behold his chubby
majesty. Santa was born and raised in a small home. Hail him. Santa’s patience is beyond your
comprehension. Come test it.”
I’d been at it for ten minutes when a manager came by. Then he went and rounded up two other
managers and the three of them brought me to the desk for a scolding. I wasn’t saying anything nasty or
sexual, though. I just heightened the discourse a little.
December 10, 1990
New York
Walking home I passed two men on 14th Street who were working with long poles, one of which
hit me in the nose and drew blood. The man who hit me found it funny and laughed.
“Hey,” I said. “That really hurt.”
He laughed all the harder and I asked if now I could hit him in the nose with a long pole so we
could be even. I told him he had to apologize, so he did, but it really doesn’t count because I had to
ask for it.
Today a Japanese child came and played his violin for Santa.