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Santa RampageNobody shoots at Santa Claus. Saturday, December 11, 1999 I took off early (for me!) Friday, so I could run home and get ready for Santacon 99. I stopped at my sister's house on the way, so I could get some peppermints she offered for my candy stash. I dressed myself in a purple long-underwear, and a red sleeveless button-front top on my upper half, my red lace-top stockings and garter belt, red bike shorts, and black burn-out chiffon circle skirt on my lower half, and a red fleece jacket with white/gold lace trim over all (santa needs layers!). My hat was a red-fleece mob cap with white lace trim, and a rosette with black feathers poking up. I carried my santa totem: a soft-sculpture santa head that I'd decorated to match me, mounted on a pipe that I'd covered with green and gold ribbon. I'd attached large tinsel tassels to this object, too. I'd constructed all of these things for my first santa excursion with Wally, two years ago.
I took the bus downtown. Seeing me in this outfit amuses people -- they don't quite know what to make of me, since I'm out of context when on my own. I had to get off the bus earlier than I wanted to, since there was a re-route: they were doing a caroling competition at Westlake Plaza. It wasn't that long of a walk, but I was burdened with so much candy! I got to the Nitelite, the bar attached to the Moore Hotel. This place is authentically tacky, with no self-conciousness or irony involved. Fake rock on the walls, old couches in the back room. Tons of lights and tinsel, and a mechanical santa climbing a ladder behind the bar. I wasn't the first santa to arrive; we toddled in by dribs and drabs. Finally Santa Helen, our instigator, arrived, which relieved my mind. I made the rounds, distributing candy to the other bar patrons after they admitted that they'd been naughty.
The crew sitting at the bar was mostly older men who seemed to be regulars. (We saw a few of the same faces today at noon!) There were also younger groups who might have been on their office holiday outing, or perhaps they go drinking every Friday night. One young woman, quite drunk, quizzed each of us about what we were doing, and what we do in our daily lives.
Finally it was time to go to our next stop, to hook up with the santas who were arriving via train. We left the bar and walked a few blocks to the bus tunnel, then took a bus tunnel bus to Pioneer Square. (It's a phrase with a good rhythm: "bus tunnel, bus tunnel, bus tunnel...") Just as I'd never been to the Nitelite before, I'd never been to the Backdoor Ultra-Lounge. This place is ironically tacky, as compared to the authentically tacky Nitelite. A string of rooms has been crammed with hanging lamps like the one I grew up with (but with black light bulbs inside), spray painted rayguns and rocket ship toys inside the DJ's booth, hula dolls, and much more.
Jayson and I did some rhumba or other latin dance early in the evening. I hadn't realized how early it was, until the place started filling up with the normal clientele. It was getting warm. I went into the ladies room and removed the long-underwear top, going with the sleevless cotton top only. The Santas started a conga line.
At around eleven, we moved on. Santas paraded up the street, through Pioneer Square, and up First Avenue. (I didn't get any pictures at this point.) It was only a few blocks to the Lusty Lady. I'd never been inside this booth-based strip place (women-owned and operated) but they are well known for the clever topical slogans on their sign outside. Santas piled in, all donating to the holiday kitty -- it was employee night and all proceeds were going totally to the workers. They had some special deals going that didn't happen on ordinary nights. Santas were disappointed that all of the booths were one-person-only, though! I think we might have been able to get a group into the dressing room tours that were happening, but it didn't happen. "Santa needs a drink!" was shouted, and we were spilled back on to the sidewalk all too soon.
I'd turned down a ride from Jayson (he said he was parked by the Kingdome), but then thought again and accepted a ride from a local santa (sadly, I've forgotten her name!). We walked to Pioneer Square, then up the hill, to her pickup truck. She dropped me off at home, then went on to Ballard herself.
I woke up this morning to some disappointing email -- Jack wouldn't be able to join me in Seattle today. More problems with his daughter A---- meant that he needed to stay close by his phone in Bellingham. Plan B: I'd contact him after I got done with santa stuff this afternoon, then drive up there if the situation was stable. Our meeting place again was the Nitelite. I asked several santas to pose while reading the Stranger, our local alternative weekly newspaper. "Hey, this looks just like the [SF] Weekly!" they cried. Santa Al-Bob has a stereovision camera, which looks very cool. I'd love to have a Viewmaster disc of our weekend proceedings! Getting the santas moving is like herding cats, or getting a battleship moving. We were waiting for one more person, or someone had to go up to the hotel room and fetch something, or some other reason for delay would happen. Santa Ed and buddy wanted to take a picture with Santa Ed reclining in a very moderne looking chaise. (I confess, I suggested it after seeing a woman sitting in the store window while waiting in the bar.) The larger version shows the Nitelite sign reflected in the glass.
"Santa needs a drink!" The cry went round, so we headed down the alley to the Alibi Room. The Seattle International Film Festival often holds events here, but it was my first time visiting. (First time at the Nitelite, the Backdoor, the Alibi Room -- Do I need to get out more?) The bartender was a bit shaken (not stirred!) when we first entered. He was worried that we'd disturb the few customers who were eating a late lunch. He calmed down in a few minutes. I made the rounds and gave them candy, and they didn't seem upset. We took over several tables and filled the bar.
Santas enjoyed the Alibi room! But we shouldn't have had anyone actually order a sit-down meal here, though; it took too long!
Santa Wally and Santa miz jewelz arrived just as we spilled out into the cobblestone alley again. It's a covered space there, so perfect acoustics for our chanting "Ho! Ho! HO!" We walked up the hill towards First Avenue. I thought we were heading directly to the Westlake Carousel, but we took a detour.
Santa Wally was deputized when we got to Westlake plaza (the badge is what he's pointing to, not his own nipple). We got into line for the carousel, whiling away the time by singing an altered version of The Twelve Days of Christmas. The carousel ride was fun -- we filled up the merry-go-round! A fitting climax for my version of Santacon. I handed over my sack of candy to Santa Helen, then took the bus back to my place. I'll continue events of this day in my next entry. |