Sheila flipped down the passenger side visor mirror as her best friend Pamela swerved violently into a parking space at the crowded shopping mall, cutting off another driver who also wanted the space, and nearly smashing into the car on Sheila's side. 'Hey, watch it! You almost made me lose an ear," she yelped, readjusting the fake plastic elf ear which peaked out under a green and red jingle-bell felt hat. "Chill Out," Pamela retorted, opening her door and sliding out of the car. "It's almost Christmas, cut me some slack!"
The two friends snuggled up in their winter coats, burrowing their chins down into their mufflers, and headed for the entrance nearest them. "Brrrrr!" they chimed as one as they stepped into the relative warmth of the large interior space. "See you later - break a leg, Elf-Girl!" Pamela said, surging ahead of her friend into the crowd of holiday shoppers and disappearing from view somewhere in the vicinity of Macy's.
Sheila started off in the opposite direction, following the candy-cane-festooned signs pointing the way to Santa's Magic Kingdom. As she walked she shucked off her coat, revealing the colorful and very feminine elf costume she wore. "Hi ho, it's off to work I go," she chuckled, carefully weaving her way through the growing throng of parents with their children who waited to sit on Santa's lap this year. She loved helping out as a mall volunteer this time of year. Everyone was so...happy. It was infectious. It helped keep her mind off her abysmal sex life. "Who am I kidding?" she thought." What sex life?" Yes, it looked like this was going to be another Christmas without any hope or promise of her getting laid. Sheila had just broken up with her boyfriend and had sworn off men, again...sort of. "Hey, there's no harm looking!" she told herself.
As Sheila neared the still-closed red velvet ropes surrounding Santa's throne, she wondered who else had volunteered for this shift. Hers was a small town with only two high schools. Odds were she would know at least one other helper. Now at age 21, she was three years out of high school, having enrolled at the local community college where she lived an apartment off-campus with Pamela.
"Hey there," came a deeply pitched male voice behind her. "You're Sheila, aren't you?" Swiveling on her boot heel, Sheila turned to see an ordinary-looking guy about her own age, holding a clipboard and pen. She retrieved a distant memory and remembered that his name was Cliff or Biff or something. He'd been a bonafide nerd in high school - president of the chess club and such - whereas she had performed lead roles in school plays and hung out with the football crowd. After all, she was on the "A" squad of the cheerleading team.
He was very close to her in the milling crowd of Santa enthusiasts. "Yes, that's right," she spoke into his ear, so he could hear her. He inspected his clipboarded list and checked off her name. "Gotcha," he said. "My name's Frank. I'm playing Team Manager today. Welcome aboard, Elf Sheila! I think you know our Santa this year..." trailing off he stepped back carefully, avoiding any small children who might be underfoot, and gestured broadly toward the throne, now occupied by the Great Elf himself, S. Claus.
"C'mon, Sheila. I'll introduce you," Frank said, leading her up the low steps by her still-mittened hand. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" roared Santa. He inspected Sheila, nodded in approval, and motioned for her to lean in closer to him. Doing so, he looked first left and then right, and pulled his fake beard down so she could see his face - but only for a brief moment. The beard snapped back into place as Sheila exclaimed in surprise, "Mr. Bradford!" She clapped both hands over her mouth in complete surprise.
Handsome, manly Mr. Bradford it was, in the flesh: he had been her high school history teacher. She'd had a major crush on him back then, and she always suspected he wanted to teach her more than important dates in history, but she had no solid proof that such was the case. He was still such a hottie, she thought, "...built like a brick shithouse. Yeah, I'd fuck him." Like that would ever happen. Not in a million years, right? He wasn't married, but he was...older. You know.