Whoever said the mall was hell at Christmas time?

According to my good friend Jack, it’s more like “hell on speed.” People dashing, children screaming, and salespeople trying to spray you with smelly lotions.

“It’s like bringing together every awful person in the world, giving them a few too many credit cards, a few too many sales, and a major case of caffeine withdrawal,” he said.

Jack isn’t your common adolescent shopper. Jack isn’t one of the annoying salesmen that people avoid making eye contact with at all costs. Jack, a mall employee, plays Santa Claus. He has signed up for the job every year since he’s worked at this particular mall. He volunteers for minimum-wage insanity for personal reasons.

“It’s like giving back to the community,” Jack told me.

“It kinda makes up for all the badly-behaved things I did over the past year, or at least makes me feel a little less guilty about doing them.”

I told him that the worst criminal in the world does not deserve to suffer the schedule a mall Santa is required to hold.

Every weekend, beginning Nov. 26 – “Black Friday” – Jack dons his red fuzzy suit and “super-beer gut” body suit, sits in the King Kong-sized chair in the mall center, ready to face the insanity. The job runs from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., from Black Friday until Dec. 23. Throughout this time, he supplies me with a running tab on his adventures as Santa.

Jack’s job uncovers the amazing and sometimes frightening things the human mind – especially the mind of a young child is capable of wishing for. Jack is used to granting the wishes of little girls asking for Hawaiian tan Barbie and little boys asking for the newest X-box game. But the job of granting wishes can be a complicated and uncomfortable one.

Jack had one kindergarten-aged boy ask for a gun. Thinking the boy was asking for a water gun or the like, Jack asked what type of gun the boy wanted and why. He answered “To kill my mom’s boss. He makes her work too much and she’s never home.”

One little girl was reduced to tears when Jack’s cell phone rang with an emergency call as she sat on his lap. Jack had to excuse himself to take the very important call, and the child bawled.

“Santa’s just like Daddy,” she cried. “He talks on his cell phone when I’m trying to talk.”

Another tricky part of Jack’s job is break time. Santa’s breaks are hard to take. It would be a disaster if the children saw Santa changing out of his costume in the mall. At times, Jack has been forced to eat in the mall food court in full Santa attire, due to the children that follow him there during his breaks. He has received many comments about his typical lunch fare.

“I didn’t know you ate Subway,” commented one boy. “You aren’t even as fat as that Subway man.”

“Mommy,” screamed one child, “Santa DOES drink Coca-Cola, just like the commercial!”

Some of Jack’s experiences this season have not been half as cute or comical. Part of the Santa Claus routine includes posing for professional pictures with customers. Recently, Jack was required to hold a one-year-old baby on his lap for 10 minutes, waiting for the child to smile. When the photo session was finally over, Jack realized that not only had the baby had a dirty diaper, but the entire front of his suit was soaking wet.

In another incident, a 300-pound woman demanded a photo with Santa to place on the front of her Christmas cards. She posed herself by sprawling on Jack’s lap.

In the past, Jack has been asked to pose with dogs, cats, and even a pet python, hung around his neck.

“I try to be tolerant, but the snake freaked me out. It wouldn’t stop slithering. I was waiting for it to choke the life out of me. Santa nearly peed his pants.”

The most memorable thing Jack has been asked for so far this season?

“One boy asked me for the use of my sleigh on Christmas Day after I was done delivering presents. I asked him where he wanted to go. He said to the Army base in Iraq where his older brother is stationed.”

Jack, who also has a friend stationed in Iraq, fought to keep his composure.

“It’s moments like that. They help me remember why I play Santa Claus,” he reflected.

Erika Lovley is a Collegian columnist.