Ha! What you thought I was talking about the real bona fide Santa, don’t be absurd! He is a completely fictional character that was invented by Coca Cola to market the soft drink, but actually the red and white variation that we are familiar with today, was actually used much earlier by a company named White Rock Beverages. All of that is beside the point though, because what we are really talking about are the professional opportunities of being Santa Claus. Here are 10 amazing perks of being Santa Claus.
You only work once a year
Sure the single workday you have is pretty much sun-set to sun-rise and you have to traverse the globe, but it’s the only day of the year you have to work. You want to play golf all day every day? Go for it, as long as your tournament takes a break on Dec. 25. Do you want to make models of tiny boats and put them in bottles? You can do that for as long as your (fat enveloped due to your obesity) heart desires. You want to spend your evenings canoodling with strippers while drinking tequila out of their belly buttons? Well…you really can’t do that, you have a public image to preserve, you’re Santa Claus after all (maybe try it on New Year’s eve, maybe nobody will notice since they’re all drunk).
People ask you for favors, all the time
OK, so this might seem irrelevant to someone that doesn’t have a deviant mind like my own. The normal folk of the world would say: “You’re Santie Claus, all the world’s children ask you for the things they most desire.” Firstly, I’m not sure why you’re talking in the pitchy falsetto of a 1920s flapper, secondly this dark husk of man (that’s me) sees that as an opportunity to cash in some favors. After all you keep excruciatingly exacting records on the morality and ethics of almost everyone in the world. Tommy will be losing his mind come Christmas morning when he cracks open the latest Uber-BloodNGuts-Station 4 gaming console, but 15 years down the line he’s going to get a visit from the Claus-father. “Tommy my boy, you remember when you asked me for the new Uber-BloodNGuts-Station 4? Well I’m calling in a favor, buddy boy.” And don’t forget the naughty list and it’s blackmailing, extortion potential. “You remember what you did to the neighbors’ cat on June 14 2001? Funny, because I do too, but I’m sure I can keep my mouth shut with a bit of monetary mum…No that’s not a rich British Mother dimwit! Its hush money, see? Hey! Throw in some cookies and milk too; you stiffed me Christmas Eve 2009!” That racket should keep your blackjack and stripper hobby….I mean little boats in bottles hobby well-funded.
The Suit is basically a pimp’s so why not?
I know that human trafficking is horribly immoral and criminal; I’m not even insinuating that. You can be a manager for erotic service providers. I mean you wear a red velvet coat and matching pants that are trimmed with white fur, drop your neck-line by a couple of buttons, embed a gold chain in that thick white chest hair and slap on a corner bought Rolex and you have the solid foundations for a lucrative second business with minimal initial investment. If your “talent” acts out, you can also threaten to send them to your work camp in the North Pole. I don’t care how much you deny it; your workshop is a work-camp bro. I’ve spoken to the Elves. What you thought we’d be holding this conversation without me getting some dirt on you?
As Santa Claus you have one of the few professions that come with a sweet ride. Sure you have your fighter pilots, race car drivers and motorcycle cops, but you my friend get it all, including the bad-a** shiny go-go boots, a point of envy for almost every single non-motorcycle cop profession. But even they don’t have the speed that your sleigh needs to travel the globe in twelve hours. “But fighter jets travel at around 1000+ mph, venerable and all mighty author” you meekly mutter. Sure they do, but their cowardly pilots hide behind a goofy glass bobble so their precious little faces don’t tear away from their skulls. Santa Claus though doesn’t have time for that malarkey, he travels 650 miles per second in an open cockpit, because that’s how true bad-a**es do it. Let’s not forget that it’s also the only vehicle in the world that comes with built in pets…now that’s some straight up pimp-sh*t.
Even on the single day you work, most homes you visit in U.S. will have a plate stacked with some cookies with a glass of milk. Once you cross the Atlantic though, get ready to rage, because once you hit the British Isles you’ll be greeted with glasses of Guinness in Ireland and a touch of sherry in England. Just fly over Germany though while flipping the bird, because the last fans of the Hasselhoff think that you can get your swagger on with a letter…really Germany? The land of beer and a questionable past, you should be the first offering booze. Oh, and since we’re on the topic, hey Holland, the only green you leave for Santa are on the carrots for the reindeer? *cough*coffee shops*cough*
Your Own Personal Army
You have at your disposal a battalion, nay a division of thousands of yes-men (yes-elves is that a thing, or should I just make it a thing and get over with it). Sure you use them most of the year to create toys for you, but if you lightly arm them, you’ll have yourself a nifty little army. Added benefit is because they’re elves they’re close to the ground making them close to impossible to hit during combat. Now all you have to do is declare war on the South Pole and show those smug tuxedo wearing penguins what’s what.
See Also: How to Avoid the Christmas Crazies
Would you like to be Santa Claus? Well according to lore you must fight the incumbent Santa Claus to the death with ice-swords in a flaming decahedron cage, while dodging elves on budgie cords yielding toy hammers. For more information please send your letters to “Death to Santa Claus, long live Santa Claus” North Pole 1, Antarctica. Or leave your name in the comment section below along with any suggestions you may have.