"No Saints in Sight as These Santas Get Their Jollies"

Alan Feuer, New York Times

Santa broke out the sour mash at 10 a.m. Christmas was coming. Why not
have a drink?

He raised his glass to another Santa, who was sucking back some Colt 45.

"Pace yourself," the second Santa said. "I started with beer this year,
not Jim Beam like last year."Santa got drunk yesterday. He cursed. He smoked. He took off his
clothes in public. It was Santacon, an annual gathering of nasty
Santas, in which some 500 naughty Clauses marched through the city,
shouting, drinking, raising gentle mayhem.

Santacon began 10 years ago in San Francisco, where 30 friends,
disheartened by the happiness of Christmas, got together in their Santa
suits and set out to have some fun. They crashed a dinner dance and
stole people's drinks. Went to a strip club. Drank themselves silly.
Some made it home. Others slept in the streets.

This year, Santacon was — or will be — celebrated from New York to
Tokyo and places in between. Its schedule and history can be found
online at www.santarchy.com.

The brains behind Santacon are something of a mystery, its organizers
remaining underground. A reporter in the crowd set out yesterday to
find the Claus-in-Charge but was told there was no main Claus, only
subordinate Clauses.

There are four cardinal rules at Santacon. Don't mess with the police.
Don't mess with kids. Don't mess with store security. And don't mess
with Santa. These rules were printed on the backs of vomit bags. The
bags were passed among the crowd.

New York's Santacon began with dim sum at the Triple 8 Palace, a
Chinese joint on East Broadway under the Manhattan Bridge.

"In the North Pole, we don't get a chance to eat often Chinese very
often," one Santa said. "So when we come to the city, we like to hit
the Asian places."

This Santa, like most, asked to use his working name for reasons of
professional privacy. So, Santa it was — all around.

"Santa's hungry!" Santa called out to the waiter.

"Santa's taking his pants off!" Santa hollered in the Triple 8. And he
did. At the dim sum cart.

After fueling up, Santa headed for the F train. "Have you been nice or
naughty?" one lovely Santa in a pair of fishnet stockings asked a
police officer.

The officer said he'd been naughty.

"Well, you get two candy canes for being naughty," lovely Santa said.

When the F train started, 200 Santas lurched and shouted, "Ho!"

It was a sea of hats and beards and bellies. There were so many Santas,
one began to wonder how they got the day off. It was, after all, the
holidays — Santa's busiest time of year.

"Wal-Mart took my job," said Santa Lamar.

Santa Kevin had a different answer. "Santa got outsourced to India," he
said.

In the West 34th Street station, Santa broke the escalator. "Ho! Ho!
Ho!" the crowd of Santas yelled.

Then Santa stopped in Herald Square to sing some variations on carols —
"Frosty the Cokehead" and "Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire."

It was on to the New York Public Library, where several hundred Santas
gathered on the front steps shouting: "Santa wants a beer! Santa wants
a beer!"

One woman turned to her husband with a frown. "This," she said, "is
really going to mess up the kids."

There was a dicey moment when two traffic officers gave Santa Claus the
eye as he and 300 pals crossed 42nd Street at the Avenue of the
Americas. A Santa in the vanguard told the officers a few more Santas
would be coming in their wake.

"Whose streets?" one Claus chanted. "Santa's streets!" the crowd called
back.

Now Santa headed for that beer. "Belly up to the bar!" one Santa
shouted as Santas, by the hundreds, wandered into an Italian place on
West 44th Street.

They ordered drinks and staged a belching competition. It was 2 p.m.
The day was young.