Being raised in The Netherlands, I know Saint Nicholas (or Sint Nikolaas, Sinterklaas) well. He's the patron saint of children. Every year at December 5th he brings them children. In the old days he was said to put the naughty children in his sack and bring them back home with him, to Spain.
So you can imagine my surprise this morning as I made myself ready for work at 'the office'. Well.. my street corner. Seeing this Bisshop walk in with his book and staff. He told me that my name was in the book. I had been a good girl and I deserved a present.
I was allowed to take it from his sack myself. I frowned a bit when he suggested that.
As a kid I was always wondering how one man, with his black helper who is recently the cause of a big public debate on racism in The Netherlands, could deliver all those presents in one night. As soon as he grabbed my hips and bent me over it became clear: this man may have been born around 270 AD, he's still as virile as he can be. I had trouble keeping up.
All the time I was wondering where his helper was, a threesome with these two important men would be most interesting for my resumé. He didn't bother telling me though. He gave me the impression he had sneaked away in the morning while Black Pete was still in bed.
Near the end of the session he asked me to open my mouth. Traditionally he puts his presents in children's shoes, but since I was still wearing my pink stripper heels that didn't work. My feet and his hands would not both fit in at the same time.
So I opened my mouth and looked up into his eyes. He rewarded me with a sticky present. It took a while to wash it off my face again. But hey, I served Saint nicholas. What other whore can say that?
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