“It’s like being in a freak-show,” said Santa.
I had to agree. It was only 11.30am and I was beginning to feel an affinity with Sylvia Plath’s, Lady Lazarus; the peanut-crunching crowd ogling us from the balcony above.
It’s starting to feel a bit like being in a zoo, only here’s the thing: An animal in a zoo may be stared at, cooed at, taken photos of, but the difference is, you get fed, and I for one was very hungry.
The shoppers are the keepers, waving their skinny lattés at us and walking on.
The closest I got to that latté was holding it for one not so yummy mummy as she put her feet up next to Santa.
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