Too fat for Santa
I once worked for a well-known London newspaper. Having not moved out of eyeline quickly enough, I was "volunteered" to help run their Christmas campaign. Their "big idea" was to have the rotund, jolly Editor dress up as Santa and go round Great Ormond Street Hospital doling out pressies. Things did not start well when I spoke to the hospital: "Can't you go to one of the other hospitals? He'll be the fourth Santa this week and the children are getting confused."

But I persuaded them. I was then tasked with finding a Santa costume for the Ed. Sounds easy, doesn't it? However, the editor was fecking enormous. I mean FAT. I mean El Gordo. I mean "Welcome to chubville, population: you." We're not talking the odd pie too many here, he had his own weather system. I get his (very generous) measurements and phone the nearest fancy dress shop to ask if they have a Santa suit in his size. No, they don't make them that large. I phone another. No again. I phone another. They laugh at me. I then proceed to phone every fancy dress shop in the London phone book. No joy. None of them stock Santa suits that big.

In a career high, I had to tell the editor of a national newspaper that he was too fat to be Santa Claus. He took it very well (he was a good guy) and said someone else could do it. Being none too svelte myself, I moved out of eyeline damn quickly that time and someone else got lumbered with doling out presents to ill children who were already inundated with gifts from strangers.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Fri 13 Jan 2006, 11:02, Reply)