NEAR: What I Learned From Santa

4 Dec

So Santa walks into a sushi joint…

No. Really.  Santa walked into the sushi joint. All eyes were on his authentic, white scraggly beard that we all know and trust from our Christmas mascot; his white hair reminiscent of memories from Miracle on 34th Street.

It was a classic random moment. Two patrons sat on his lap and got a picture with him. Luckily, the Christmas tree in the sushi joint was just decorated.

I was there alone. Usually, I eat alone. I enjoy eating alone. That night, however, two friends changed plans on me. So I think I was feeling a little disappointed. But then Santa’s helper looked at me.

“Are you eating alone?”  she asked, her eyes filled with sadness.

“Yeah.” I’m thinking I don’t need to be someone’s pity case.

But she invited me to sit over with her and Santa, er, Kevin.

Kevin is from Beirut and has an accent. He told me of the magical land of Frankenmuth in Flint, Michigan. It’s basically the land where Christmas goes to die. He got his suit there.

I asked him for an iphone for Christmas. He still has a flip phone so then I educated them on apps.

Naturally, I had to ask “What’s the best question you have ever gotten?”

He said that it was from children who ask Santa to bring their parents back together.

It’s never about the toys.

He says to the kids that just because they’re separated that it doesn’t mean that the parents love them any less and that the same amount of love for them is still there.

Then it came back to the story of me. Why was I all alone at this sushi joint on a Saturday night?

Santa’s helper said  “You looked lonely.”

Ouch. It really hit hard.  My inner emotions were defensive.  I don’t need to be looked at with disdain.  What’s wrong with being alone? If  no-one is going to go out with me why can’t I just do it on my own? I always assert my independence and I’ve realized not to depend on others (again, after being disappointed with re-arranged plans; flakiness and people who live too far that arrangements always have to be made in advance).

But I’m giving off the lonely vibe? Crap.  Of course, I wish there could be that “one,” that person I can have sushi on a Saturday night.  Where we’re sitting in a booth, legs stretched out reading our favourite magazine or newspaper; orange juice ripe and for the taking.

But he’s not there. Maybe he won’t be there for a long time.

And thoughts turned to Christmas. Will I ever have those friends who invite me over if I am still single? Will I be a burden? Will I ever have a family of my own to make decorations with and wouldn’t that be nice?

I still want the iphone for Christmas. But maybe I want something more as well.

I told Santa’s helper that “I enjoy eating alone. Why not?”

I don’t think she ever thought of it that way.

Advertisements

3 Responses to “NEAR: What I Learned From Santa”

  1. Davis December 5, 2011 at 12:11 pm #

    Since I usually travel by myself, I usually find myself dining alone. I like the restaurants in large old hotels where I can get a quiet table to the side and order a half bottle of wine and have a leisurely meal. I watch the other diners and usually conclude that I am just as happy that I am not them.

    One evening I took a friend and her teenage daughter to a nice restaurant in Palo Alto. She and her daughter are both blond and beautiful, and I can clean up presentably, and one of the staff later mentioned to me what a beautiful family we were. But I knew that my companions, for all their beauty, were not that happy, and I knew that I was still the same person I always was, so I have been one of those other diners and know not to take appearances too seriously, and if I happen to be dining alone, that is fine, too.

  2. ayngelina December 6, 2011 at 1:05 am #

    I love this story. Only in Toronto!

    • nearafar December 9, 2011 at 4:46 pm #

      Yes, only in Toronto! Such is my life. Still pondering posting the story from Chili’s. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: