Dirty Santa

Simple setup, open to discuss any kinks or ideas you'd like to include!

The music plays loudly over the speakers; the 15th round of Mariah Carey today. If "All I Want for Christas is You" plays even one more time during this shift, Lacey is convinced she’d have to just walk out. Quit her job and start from scratch. December had passed its midpoint, and she was sufficiently sick of the endless Christmas mess at her boring retail job. Working register means you listen on a loop and get yelled at by women too stressed to still be living, working floor means you clean up after said women throw boxes to the floor because you didn’t have the right color of whatever this year’s hottest box of junk is. 

All of this culminated in Lacey hating Christmas quite a bit. At 23 she was still working in the store she swore she’d leave after high school, and each year was just a repeat of the last. Even the staff managed to be the same each season. As she stands at her register, bored out of her mind, the Santa hands out candy canes up at the door in front of her. The same seasonal worker every year. Each year he tried his best to flirt with her behind the counter, seemingly infatuated despite the fact that Lacey couldn’t even remember his name. And then he’d disappear in January until the next Christmas rolled around. 

Lacey had to admit she wasn’t much to look at in the uniform they had provided her. Even with her general disinterest it was somewhat nice to hear his odd compliments. The ugliest red and green sweater she had ever seen hangs off her body, her blonde hair curled perfectly and desperately draped over her shoulders to hide as much of the sweater as she could. Not that the hair could do anything to fix the elf hat jingling atop her head. Still, it felt a bit odd to see his eyes plastered onto her from his spot at the door.