My children, of course, thought I’d look ridiculous. But that was the point of it, really. To have fun. Especially when we had so little of it in KL on my cab-driver’s takings, ever since I lost my job as a manager in Brisbane.
Over the weekend, my family could spend two days in air-conditioning, my kids could play games, my wife could window shop at the Pavilion Mall. And we could use the extra money.
I circled the ad. They needed someone to sit in a sleigh drawn by paper-cut golden reindeer suspended mid-air. Someone who would let children sit on his lap, give them packets full of cheap candy in cute bags, who would peer through white wool and smile non-stop.
Since I couldn’t buy my children enough gifts for Hari Raya this year, I could get to be Santa, the bringer of gifts, instead. Also a reminder of our kids’ Christmas parties. I’m fair-skinned, well-padded, with a ready smile. No reason I wouldn’t get the job.
The same morning, I appeared for the interview; newspaper rolled in hand, trying to look cheerful and portly. I walked across a sea of red carpeting, into the belly of the mall, beside the shimmering Christmas trees.
When I reached the counter, they took a look at me, my name on my IC and told me the position was taken. I loitered about, a little dejected. My cab hours did not begin till noon.
Later, I watched a skinny, dark man by the counter try the red jump-suit for size. Not as if anyone would’ve known who I was under the costume. But they knew, and that sufficed. I walked out of the mall. This was Kuala Lumpur, not Bethlehem.