When I was a department store Santa Claus
I tried not to cough or blink when anybody was around.
I knew they thought I was a life size Santa doll.
One lady had been browsing through the candy and toys at my feet.
When I moved a little she froze and stared at me for a long moment,
and then went back to looking at the toys.
I coughed and she did a fright dance.
Another time, in another department store,
I was waiting at the bottom of an escalator
for Misty to return from shopping upstairs.
I was bored, and drifted into one of my catatonic states.
I was wearing jeans, cowboy boots and hat, a denim shirt,
and a leather vest that was made for me at an Indian reservation,
on one of our western tours.
A lady was looking at some dresses on my right,
and happened to glance in my direction.
She casually came over and examined me.
I knew what was up and came back to reality, but I was afraid to move.
She reached out and felt the leather of my vest between her thumb and fingers.
I guess my eyes moved in response to her familiarity.
She seemed to go into shock and levitated a few inches straight up.
She put her hand over her heart like Fred Sanford having the big one,
and said, “Oh, my God! You’re alive! I’m SO sorry!”
I smiled and said, “No problem.”
I was beginning to enjoy these weird episodes.
Is that sick or what?
So, if you happen to come to my funeral, do me a favor…
Poke me a couple of times just to make sure.