A Visit (to the Mall) From St. Nick

It’s Christmas Eve; the gifts are under the tree, and, like most chic couples (he’s not smoking in his smoking jacket; she’s not sweating in her sweats), they’re feeling a little poetic. “Pour me another egg nog,” she says, screwing up her courage. Warily, he answers: “You’ve got an adventurous look in your eye--you didn’t buy us another trip to Elba , did you?

SHE: No, no, no. Nothing like that. I was just thinking, rather than listen to carols, shall we, uh, try a little parody of “A Visit From St. Nicholas?” . . . Oh, there’s that look . Remember how much fun we had last Christmas Eve when, with a sartorial bent, we reinvented “Frosty the Snowman”? You sang, “Frosty the Shoe-Salesman, was a very happy sole?” And I, well, sort of got hysterical?

HE: Yes, and I see you’ve nearly recovered. Well, at least you screwed up your courage. In just a second, I’ll be screwing up poetry. You know I’m about as good at rhyme schemes as you are at jai alai. Ah, well, into the abyss . . .

SHE: With apologies to Clement C. Moore, then: “ ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the mall. . . Not a salesman was stirring, no one at all. . .”

HE: “The crowds had departed, displays were a mess; No silk scarves to stroke, no more furs to caress . . . “

SHE: Hey, you’re good! More egg nog, my little holly sprig? “The managers were nestled, all snug in their beds, while visions of after-Christmas-sales danced in their heads. And Ma in her Fendi and Dad in his Gap, had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.”

HE: “When out by the valet there arose such a din; It was early-bird shoppers lining up to get in. They were Christmas fanatics in search of a bargain: just one marked-down sport coat, just one cashmere cardigan. They just couldn’t hold still till St. Stephen’s Day; and they’d all brought wheelbarrows to cart stuff away . . . “

SHE: “When what to their wondering eyes should appear but a candy-red jet, gassed up and in gear; with a little old pilot so suave and so slick, they knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. . .”

HE: “He was dressed in Armani and reeked of Old Spice; and the eight reindeer with him didn’t smell very nice. But the early-bird shoppers knew here was the man who could solve all their problems and toward him they ran. ‘Got any spare Nikes? Got something by Gucci?’ cried the clothes-hungry horde as they began to get pushy . . . “

SHE: “To the bottom of the escalator! To the top of the hall! He tossed out wrapped presents, for one and for all! There were neck scarfs and ball caps and faded jeans too, and St. Johns and Calvins from Saks Fifth Avenue! The women they fainted; the men they all swooned; not since Thanksgiving had they been so in tune!”

HE: “And then from the cockpit came fluttering down, a Frederick’s of Hollywood wispy nightgown! And as more fancy lingerie fell at their feet, the mob raised its battle cry: ‘Save the receipt!!!’ ”

SHE: “ ‘My wife’s gotten chubby, her pal’s gotten plump! If those mini-gowns fit, I live in a dump!’ Nick spoke not a word, but kept at his work, filling their shopping bags, then turned with a jerk. . .”

HE: “Then he waved at the mob and said ‘toodle-oo,’ and he climbed in the jet and shot off at Mach 2.”

SHE: “The shoppers just stood there, too awe-struck to speak, till one of them offered: ‘Let’s rest till next week! We’ve got what we came for--and oh, so much more. No need to hang out here.’ They flew out the door! They sprang to their Hondas and started to whistle; and away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.”

HE/SHE: “But we heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight, ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!’ ”