Entourage

I think I may have seen someone from the Otherworld. Or whatever you call it.

Yesterday, while dutifully doing my warehouse duties, my eyes rested upon a man whose appearance arrested my attention.

If Hugh Jackman ever stepped out of the pages of a Dicken's novel, this was the man. Shiny black shoes, long black dress coat with a grey woolen scarf and a... for real, now... a black top hat. I wouldn't have blinked if he had carried a walking stick. He had two, equally well dressed companions with him who called him The Butler and they, along with a number of members of our Merchandising crew were bring up flatbed after flatbed stacked tall with boxes of chips, crackers, chocolates, candies and the like. The counter next to mine was opened just for this purchase and as The Butler and His Entourage left their flatbeds there while they finished picking up the remainder of items they needed, the gossip grew.

Who is this man? Is he truly some rich family's butler? An eccentric, wealthy man living a persona? Or someone who simply looks delicious in turn of the century clothing and likes to make people talk about himself? Regardless, the amount of merchandise he was bringing to the front was astounding. A member of Merchandising came by and I overheard that this was a charitable donation to some children's charity, just as the Butler came strutting back to the front end.

And, how, you may wonder, does a Butler (The Butler?) in the middle of Saskatchewan speak? With a proper British accent of course; leaning a bit towards the Cockney, rather than a crisp London. Oh, and he opens out in song (the last line of The 12 Days of Christmas, for those who would like to know) without the slightest discomfort.

Which all leads me to believe that he was a very rich, very interesting Apparition. A spector of Christmas Past.

That, or a very strange and extremely mysterious man. Who wears a top hat. And sings. And gives large sums of money to charity.

Nope, I'm still leaning towards the Spector-thing.