Nothing and Some More

[I thought a bit about it this morning, while taking the shower. The plan so far is I (aka first person writing) pretending to be Santa while chitchating with camgirls. Then Santa comes into the conversation. (blank) then we talk about globalization and God and why the hell life is unfair (blank) the end is Santa being naughty to balance the hallmark ending]

Dictionary.com suggests tittle-tattle as a synonym to chitchat.

I like to chat online: first, I can practise typing words different from the usual while, gosub and M-x compile. And camgirls are a pleasure to talk with, because they've heard everything and they know that at the end, all I want is some flesh (no blood, thanks). Pre Xmas is, like any global feast, an easy way to start a light conversation (and much better than my usual it's raining here, and not men). So I was tit-ting-tattling with that smart ass about how many still digital pictures I could have of her if I bought her some crap on her wishlist. For good measures, I was of course the official Santa, but undercover since my wife would be upset if she knew I was using my privileges not really the way they were supposed to be used (ie having kids behaving more or less correctly instead of having them understand quite early in their youth that money can buy everything, almost).

Of course, that camgirl was closed to the idea of surprise. She wanted that Loft Story boxset and there was no way she would instead receive 1984. But that was a subtile argument, her writing private joke on her public cam, me answering with public jokes in our private conversation.

Then of course, the rain really started to fall. And no Geri Halliwell in tank top rang the bell of my door. I quite like storms, but I'm not really into zillions of water.

[I'm sure you can feel the Deus Ex Machina coming right up]

Then there was a big lightning and a few second later the thunder said hello. (...I think I better knock, knock, knock on wood ) And then a popup on my screen, from my DHCP informing me that somewhat was indeed using my freenet. THAT was weird; because I happen to be living in the bottom of nowhere , and I can assure you that no one in his right mind would be stoopid enough to be outside now, using a laptop to connect to the internet.

Then there was the barytone "Hello". Damn, Barry White was in the building. Next second I was expecting Lucy Liu to groan like an angry tiger in my hear.

You can't always get what you want: an old fat guy, quite wet and leaking all over the room, was sitting on my bed, ruining the brand new plaid that mom lovingly made for my birthday..

- Don't worry, I clean the mess later. Thanks for the freenet, I happen to have a little problem and you're part of my solution. By the way, you should told her that her teddy bear is behind the third drawer, her little brother put it here.
- ??
- Come one, trust me and type it.
So I typed it.
I got one smiley back, a 'hold on, I'm coming... back' and then after a long minute the expected 'how did you know that ????'. And me to answer 'Didn't I told you I was Santa Claus ?'

[I'm listening to Sam and Dave, really]

And the lighting was there again, and the guy on my bed started to roll on the floor laughing, litteraly.

- How come you're around, it's not even Christmas yet.
- Reconnaissance.

And indeed he was typing like a deamon on his iBook, creating I'm sure a hell of a road-book. - Calling it a chimneybook would be more exact though.

[here is the missing transition]

Do you mind me being really me with your friend.

And so he took my keyboard and starting typing. She was quite excited, as much as I could judge by her cam. First she proposed to bare it all, in order to get the full wishlist.

Santa smiled and wrote something I couldn't read, but she blushed, really and turned the webcam away.

I have a log, I will read it later.

- Don't even think about it, was the answer, what I write here is just between her and me. I'm not real. I'm a symbol. An emblem. I have no physical presence. That's why your plaid is still okay.

[alt version]

Strangely enough, they started to talk about magic. Not LOTR though, just plain old magic with a snap of finger.

And then obviously about god and 9/11. Santa told her God and him were not really working in the same building. [morality coming, hold on thight] The answer was short: "I do not exist per se. I'm just a tool to illustrate some idea. Plus anyway, you got free will."

[back to normal mode]

Then there was a blue screen. She lost the connection. Funnily enough, the last sentence she was able to read from the so-called Santa was Think Different.

Santa was laughing like a childish devil. - You DoSsed her ?
- Yep. She was starting to get into NDAed things and I couldn't really let her know that some tricks of my trade were under heavy copyright.
- Like your suit belongs to Coca-Cola ?
- Nah. This is an urban legend. I was red before some smart dude on Coke decided to use me as an icon to drink his crap. Could have been worse, I could be selling Pepsi instead. Or even milk.
- So what is so secret ?
- The fact that I'm using underpaid dwarfs in shitty places of the world to make cheaper presents so your kids can have more crappy plastic toys like Happy Rotter or anorexic Blondie. And also the fact that I'm a global icon used everywhere in the world to give you one occasion to be together, one family , and for one night have a slice of magic back into your life.
- Is this a good thing ? to have small kids believe in magic ?
- They don't believe in me, alas. They just know they will get lots of new toys. Have them believing in magic would mean that they receive suprizing presents, the one they were secretly wishing to have but afraid to ask
- like the boy that wanted a doll and the girl really keens on computer ? Tell me, what will I get, then ?
- You're a grown-up now. You're out of my database. You should be on the other side, you are supposed to help me populate that database.
- Now what ?

Thunder of course. And lightning.

[here the supposed cynical part, but at the same time a physical evidence I wasn't really dreaming]

So I tried to reconnect with the camgirl, and I checked the log, just in case. Guess what? My complete NkdCmGrl directory was wiped. Instead I had ONE single picture:
An old bearded NAKED guy with a sign saying Happy New Year and a huge smile. And the legend was Look what Coke can do to you.
[not really that cynical... but that will do]