santacon (lyn)

Carol and I are meeting at Westville for dinner.  It’s a popular, very small (as in seats 20, if that) West Village eatery.  We are seeing the new Neil LaBute play, The Break of Noon and eating at Westville first.

I take the subway downtown and see, in the station, throngs of people dressed in Santa outfits.  I’m thinking, “Maybe this is where all the Santas start out before they disburse throughout the city.”  I exit the station and see more Santas.  Actually they are everywhere.  Not a lot of white beards but everyone is in a Santa outfit of some kind.  The Santas are mostly young.  Equally divided between men and women.  Some are wearing antlers.  Some have lights embedded in their costumes.  Their head coverings range from cowboy hats to an actual, rather large, lampshade.  Many of the women seem to be wearing red and white striped stockings…some are tights and some are attached by garters that are easily seen.  Thousands of Santas roam the streets.  They sit on stoops.  They hail cars.  They sing in the streets.  They talk on cell phones.  They dance in bars.  It is surreal.  I ask someone what’s going on and they tell me it’s Santacom, assuming I would know what this celebration is about.  I later go online and find nycsantacon.com.  It says,

Santacon is a non-denominational, non-commercial, non-political and non-sensical Santa Claus convention that occurs once a year for absolutely no reason.

I snap a few poor photos from my iPhone.

       

                

I make it though the sea of Santas and arrive at Westville early, but that’s okay, as there is a 45-minute wait, even at 6 o’clock.  I love this little place and eat as if I’ve never heard of Weight Watchers.  I order and eat every morsel of salmon teriyaki and a cranberry tart with vanilla ice cream for dessert. 

The play can best be rated as, “Eh.”  Not the biting dialogue or twisted ending I’m used to from one of my favorite playwrights.