The name is Kringle … Kris Kringle

Melissa Schorr

Tuesday, Dec. 9, 1997 | 10:05 a.m.

WANTED: OUTGOING SELF STARTER NEEDED FOR SEASONAL JOB. EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE OF THE TOY INDUSTRY ESSENTIAL. MUST BE GOOD WITH CHILDREN. AMPLE BELLY AND WHITE BEARD PREFERRED, THOUGH NOT REQUIRED. TWINKLE IN EYE AND A COMFY LAP A MUST.

Santa is on a lunch break. Who would have guessed that he had a weakness for McDonald's french fries and Coca-Cola?

He sits in his white undershirt, his furry red pants and red suspenders, having removed his heavy overcoat. (It gets hot in there, Santa remarks gently.)

When he is finished, he flips on his long red cap like a pro, tightens up the buckle of his black belt, and takes a final spot check in the mirror.

Halfway out the door, he suddenly stops, wiggling his fingers in the air. Something is missing.

Santa has forgotten his gloves.

After all, he's only been doing this job for the past 400 years.

'Tis the season, and Santa Claus has already come to town. At the local charities and hospitals, volunteers of every shape, size and gender don cottony beards and red suits. At the casino holiday parties, women bounce around in skimpy Santa costumes.

This is not a story about those Santas. Those Santas are all very well and good and noble.

But then there are the Santas a cut above the rest, the professionally trained Santas. Skilled Santas. Santas who don't let the delusion slip, even for a second.

The Navy SEALs of Santas, if you will.

Dilettante Santas need not apply.

Companies like SantaPlus, which has been in the business for half a century, provide this elite corps de Santas to staff the malls, granting wishes and selling snapshots.

"We're always on the lookout for a good Santa," acknowledges Judy Noerr, president of The Noerr Programs, one Santa supplier, who has even been known to stop elderly gentlemen on the street if she suspects they might have the St. Nick spirit in them.

While Santas today can come in many shapes and colors, there are a few industry guidelines:

"Someone who truly loves children," says Noerr. "Someone who will grasp how important those 45 seconds can be -- some of those children look forward to this for weeks."

"We try to hire on the quality of the voice," says Bob Riggs, of SantaPlus, which provides 1,500 Santas nationwide, including the Boulevard, Galleria and Fashion Show malls. "It has to be a gentle voice, not raspy.

"He also must have a gentleness in manner," he adds. "You can't get one who jerks around, that will scare young children. Then, (because everything else is covered) so much of his expression is conveyed by the eyes, you want to find eyes that have a smile in them."

Before any of their Santas are allowed on the floor, they must undergo a security check and get instructed on the proper grooming -- no cigarette and whiskey breath, please.

They must learn proper safety techniques on juggling as many as eight small wiggling children on one lap without sliding.

They must be debriefed on the season's latest toys, in order to nod knowledgeably to requests for Speak and Snore Ernie dolls and the Giggle pets and the new zaftig Barbie (sans her va-va-va voom dimensions).

These uber-Santas must maintain Jackie O grace when baby Kylie or Hunter or Cody has gone potty on Santa's leg. They have to be able to rattle off the names of all seven reindeer, often in a second language.

And every one of Noerr's 45 Santas boasts genuine white beards -- for the all-important Dubious Kid Test-Pull.

"This is the real beard, the real hair -- and this is real too," says the Santa at Meadows Mall -- His real name? Just call him Kris, as in Kringle -- patting his ample belly with a chuckle.

And, like most of today's professionals, Santa must also undergo sensitivity training.

What do you say to the girl's wish to be reunited with her two brothers in separate foster care homes, or to the child in a wheelchair who may be seeing her last Christmas, or to the little girl who tells you she didn't want anything, she just wanted her mommy and daddy to quit fighting?

"All kids aren't happy," says Santa. "Some of these kids are caught up in the world, they're victims. Santa is one of the few things that some of them really have to hold on to."

Other children break Santa's heart with comments like this 8-year-old's: "I want a million dollars and some diamonds, and my mommy said if you don't give them to me, you're a fake!"

Santa sighs.

"I told her, 'Well, if I give everything to you, what would I have left to give to the other kids? You can't be selfish like that.'

"I don't know how to put it, it's just kind of hard," he admits. "It doesn't take too many of those things to make you realize what's happened."

But most find that the positive side of the experience outweighs everything else.

"I like playing the part because I love kids and I like doing for kids," explains Darren Lee Dragoo, 31, one of five Santas at the Galleria. "It makes me feel good that I can put a smile on a kid's face, 'cause I can give them something and it just makes their day."

Which brings up perhaps the most crucial quality in a high-quality Santa.

"The look has something to do with it," says Noerr, "but the most important thing is the heart."