The day I played Scrooge to Santa

FOLLOWING a career in the police service, I took a post as regional security controller with a leading department store group. during my first week it was the lead-up to Christmas trading and I had occasion to leave my office in order to visit the catering manager in the upmarket cafeteria on the top floor of the emporium. It was shortly after the store had been opened to the public and there was but one person sitting at a table in a corner of the room, a middle-aged chap, who, to say the least, was of unkempt appearance. The catering manager joined me in registering his disgust that such a scruffy individual should have been in his eating establishment. I noticed that the man had in his possession a bottle wrapped in newspaper, the contents of which appeared to be some sort of intoxicating liquor. I asked him whether he thought the cafeteria was a tramp’s hostel, and assisted him down an escalator and to the street, where I told him never to visit the store again. About half an hour following the occurrence, I was approached by the manager of the store, who asked me why I had ejected his Father Christmas from the premises. ‘The supervisor on the toy department has mentioned that she saw you propelling him across the floor. She has been unable to open up the grotto,’ he stammered. Together with the supervisor, I went outside and found Santa Claus sitting on a bench and, no doubt to his utter confusion, persuaded him to resume his duties.

Dennis Wood, Manchester.