The only Jew in the grotto

Day one: Training

I arrive with ten minutes to spare. As I fling open the doors to the stairwell and climb the stairs in anticipation, a girl appears behind me. She too is going for grotto training.

Suzy or Suzanne (I forget) asks me what school I go to. I should point out that I am 23 going on 24.

I could have been pleased I look so young, flattered even, but humiliation felt more apt.

“I’ve been to university,” I say indignantly. She follows this by an ‘oh’, and as an awkward silence looms, I follow this up with some babble about thinking it would be a fun thing to do while I look for a “proper” job. Sigh. Why am I even bothering to explain this to her?

I find myself most drawn to the girl sitting quietly on my left. At 20 she thinks she is the oldest until I let my grand total of 23 years on this planet slip out of the bag.

Blimey I’ve never been made to feel so old. But the 20-year-old has far more responsibility for her age, with a five-year-old daughter, and, she whispers to me, “one on the way.”

However, she hasn’t made it known she is three months pregnant for fear she wouldn’t get the job.

Anyway, back to the job in hand. While I had been excited about the prospect of working in a Christmas grotto I had underestimated the knowledge that was required for the job.

As we sit around the table, five prospective elves, one elf supervisor and look away now if you don’t want your Christmas dream to be shattered: three Santas, I was first in the firing line.

“What would you say to a child who asks where all the reindeers are?”

(Even Christmas isn’t excluded from recession cuts)

Feeling like I actually am back at school I reply, “In the air carrying presents.” I thought that was quite a good response.

Supposedly another answer would be, on the roof. Hmm definitely believable. As long as people don’t find any flaws while in the grotto that’s ok. Wait until they get out and see a roof with no reindeers. Then all hell can break loose. Then again all they need is a couple of inflatable reindeers on the roof. Then the plan would be foolproof.

Than came a question I also hadn’t anticipated. What is your favourite memory/thing about Christmas?

Now I do enjoy the Christmas season, and actually probably celebrate it as much as many people by over-eating, seeing family and friends and watching TV. However, I was unsure whether this was the time where I said, actually I celebrate Chanukah not Christmas.

But, then it came to me. The best things about Christmas: mulled wine and Christmas markets. You can’t beat a plastic cup of mulled wine from a very moody German man.

Next came the Santas’ grilling. The Santas ranged from one who really was Santa clause with a northern accent, the second had the white hair but it was receding and the third is younger blonder and will really have to work the wig and beard if he is to be believable.

They may get paid more than the elves but there’s a price to pay; Santa must drink with a straw so as not to disturb the beard.

They learnt how best to wear their beards, how to brush them out so they look more authentic than straight from the packet. They learnt how to paint their eyebrows white. FYI you brush against the hair. We also got to see how the red cheeks are done. I was hugely relieved that this year we are going for a subtler look as opposed to the garish red cheeks they did last year.

The Santas were tested on the names of the reindeers. I was at a dead end after Rudolph so that was a bit of an education.

We practiced on the tills and learnt about our tasks in the grotto which include anything from taking photos, making them into magnets, queue management, working on the till and assisting Santa.

Mr health and safety came for five minutes to explain fire escapes – the gist being if an alarm goes, go out of one.

We also learnt that apart from looking after our own safety we must also make sure that if there are two Santas around, we keep them away from each other so as not to ruin Christmas for the children- in other words to keep the illusion.