There Ain't No Sanity Claus

There were a legion of Santa Clauses down on Sixth Avenue, roaming the streets in packs, chatting in diners over coffee and chicken salad, waiting patiently underground for subway trains, tapping their feet to the delta blues of a busker. One unfortunate Claus, with glasses and dark curly hair tucked under his cap, was being accosted outside a deli by a craggy drunkard in olive green who demanded an explanation.

"What's going on with all you people dressed up like that, standing around doing nothing?"

Santa held back a laugh. "It's called fun, man. Don't you remember fun?"

Evidently he did not.