His little digits blindly searched for the snooze button of his alarm clock. The Beatles, "Yellow Submarine" was quickly cut off as Marty flicked the button down. His arm wriggled back under the covers like a worm running from the sun. He was hoping to go another round of nine minutes of sleep. It was his third failed effort to shake off the cobwebs, and he was not eager to rise out of bed just yet. Now he laid there half in and half out of dreams. It was inevitable that he had to get up and prepare for his first day of work. It was that time of year again. The time of the year where Marty made most of his big cash jobs. Everyone wanted the little people they called midgets, dwarfs, half-pints, or some of the other colorful bigoted names they had for people of Marty's size. Marty didn't really care too much, he preferred the name midgets. Actually, the larger midget contingents were prejudice against the smaller variety. It was as if they were better because they had a few inches on them. Marty was above it all, and didn't care to discriminate against any of them no matter how tall or small they were.
Marty fell into the average to larger-sized midget class. He didn't really have any friends who were similar to him in this regard, but he did work with them at various jobs. He had appeared on a wrestling show, a variety comedy show, and a handful of movie and minor TV appearances. Throughout the year, Marty's agent booked him on just about anything to make a buck. Times were tough, so Marty couldn't afford to be picky. His college degree in accounting was nothing he ever planned to fall back on, since throughout life he felt he was never taken seriously. Who wants to have a little person in their life other than for comic relief? This was probably why most midgets were depressed and alcoholics. Marty had his share of liquor moments too, but they weren't as bad as they could be if he actually liked getting drunk.
Today was the beginning of the Holiday Season. As soon as Thanksgiving was over, the weekend at the Mall was a happening. The kids wanted to speak to Santa and tell him what they would like from the fat jolly man in red and white. Unbeknownst to the kiddies, they had no clue that most of the time Santa was an out of work actor or some temporary employee or a man trying to get a little extra for the holidays. Sometimes he was a grumpy old man, who got a kick out of having kids on his lap. Marty rather despised working with some of these Santas. He had to be the happy little elf assistant to Santa, and the conversations he would have with some of these creeps was disturbing.
There wasn't a calling for a four-foot, Santa, so Marty couldn't demonstrate what Santa should be portrayed as. Although Marty was Jewish, he would have loved to play Santa just one year. He wasn't religious and really enjoyed the holiday spirit that people had this time of the year. He extremely loved kids, but most of them saw him in the little green outfit with curled shoes and large pointy ears and laughed. Any dialogue he would have with them would be short and sweet. Sometimes their eyes filled with tears from the fear they had from the tiny man getting too close. This always made Marty feel sad. The older tikes would smile, but hardly say much to him. He was there to guide the kids to Santa and to hand the parents a coupon for 10% off anything in the Mall. His hands were tied, but he did receive nice wages. There were plenty of opportunities out there this time of year, so he just took the best offer presented to his agent.
When the music blared again from his alarm clock, Marty groaned and shut it off. Noticing it was a little before 8am, he had to get going. He was scheduled to be at the 24th Street Mall at 9am for prep work and costume fitting. The Mall opened up at 10am and the line of kids and their parents would be wrapped around the Christmas Display for Santa. The first day was always the worst, because parents now wanted to get pictures of their kids with Santa on their holiday cards. It was the new trend of cards and all parents wanted their kids to be the center of attention in their family and friends living room displays. Why anyone thought that was a good idea was beyond Marty. Since his circle of friends was small, Marty never had the pleasure of receiving such a card. Any such mailing he received was usually business-related including his agent. It was a lonely life and Marty kept a good attitude about it. He was always friendly with his co-workers, his various bosses and from time to time the girl he might pick up at a bar.
Sexual relations wasn't a hard thing for Marty because most women were curious to what it would be like to do it with a small person. He thought of himself as a very good lover. He knew he had to work harder because of his height disadvantage, but he was very strong and quite versatile in his approach towards women. He never had a complaint. On the contraire, they left him with the notion that he had been one of there best of lovers. His apparatus was not proportionate in relation to the rest of his body. He was well blessed with 7-inches, and his women were usually shocked at first glance. Marty figures they expect to see some tiny hanging flesh that would be more cute than accommodating. He might have shorter stubbier body parts, but at least God found it within his heart to make some things equal.
Now while sex wasn't a problem, love was. As soon as the curiosity was over, reality of sex with a midget hit home. Simply, no one wanted to be seen with a vertically challenged person. No normal sized girl wanted to have a midget as a boyfriend. If they did, Marty had not found her yet. He always left his number and never got one good one back. It was the nature of things. No return calls, no second dates, and no recognition. Marty enjoyed the sex, but hated the empty feeling he received afterwards. The last few times he said thanks and left. They didn't pursue him, so he felt it was easier on both of them.
At 33, Marty pretty much accepted his fate. He did his best to cheer himself up, but the holidays were tough since both his parents recently passed away. His Mom died two years ago, and his father last summer. They both were normal-sized, and Marty was their only child. He loved them both very much, and the holidays would not be the same without them. He just wanted to keep himself busy, and before he knew it the season would be over. He would be in great spirits as always and try to make the kids smile. If he was lucky he might get one to laugh in every 100 kids.
Marty arrived at the Mall on time and met immediately with the management board. They greeted him pleasantly and gave him the elf costume. It had the standard green cotton material with red-patched shoulders and knees. There was a black belt with big buckle in the middle that went over his shoulder and around his waist diagonally. The hat was also green with red trim and feather. He looked like a cross between Robin Hood and a girl scout. It was better than the stocking version where he had to basically wear a dress and had pantyhose. It was too cold in the Mall for his delicates to be encased in the nylon for 6 hours. He didn't understand women who wore them on cold wintry days.
"Where is Santa?" Garland Bastaw asked to his assistant Blair Doyle. Apparently, Santa, AKA Timothy Rutherford had not shown up yet. Marty didn't know this particular Santa, since most of them do not repeat appearances one year to the next at the same location. Marty had a great reputation, and that is why he was sought after for these types of appearances. This was his third appearance in four years here. The only year he missed, Marty's agent negotiated a better deal at a flea market in Long Island for the month. The following year, the Mall paid to make sure Marty came back and he did.
"We are calling him now Mr. Bastaw," Blair answered nervously. Blair Doyle was wearing a flowing dark green velvet dress, appropriate for the holiday season. Her legs were finely curved and wrapped in the sheerest of stockings, finished off sexily with a pair of high-heeled black boots that went halfway up her calves. She was a brunette with the bluest of eyes. Her pert nose and dimples were only accentuated by her smile. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, and a very appealing twenty it was. Her hair is shoulder length, a little longer than it was the previous years. It suited her quite nice.
"You know we only have a half an hour, and we need him here now," Garland demanded.
"Yes sir," Blair responded, "I am well aware of it. We told Mr. Rutherford to be here promptly at 9am." She glanced at her watch and shrugged her shoulders. Garland grimaced and looked at my general direction and back to Blair. She looked away at him, feeling the intimidating glare, and biting her nails nervously in response.
"Is he your contingency plan?" Garland inquired pointing at Marty. Blair caught this and looked quickly at Marty then back to her boss. What Garland was referring to was a backup plan just in case something went wrong. If Marty failed to show, they would just shove someone else out there to handout the coupons and make the most out of it. If Santa didn't show, then a store manager would be selected to be a temporary replacement until they called the temp agency and someone came over. They did not fall back on that until 15 minutes past the hour, just in case the actor showed up. For 15 minutes Marty would have to entertain the crowd, it was in his contract. He knew it, but in the 10 years or so that he was doing this, a Santa never failed to show up. He would also be paid more than was in his contract.
.... There is more of this story ...