Last night, She Who Must Be Obeyed and I joined a group of friends for Movie Night. And since the movies we wanted to see were at the Local Cheap-Ass Cinema, it was an inexpensive evening out.
While everyone on the planet seems to be rushing off to see the latest Star Wars installment, we, being the contrarians we are, went to see Hitch, that Will Johnson romantic comedy from a few months ago. It wasn’t bad, falling somewhere in that pleasant zone between being a Chick Flick and a Dick Flick. Something to appeal to both sexes.
As we were leaving the theater, my attention was drawn to a short, roly-poly man a few paces ahead of me. What was striking about him was his snow-white hair – just a touch of Male Pattern Baldness – and his flowing white beard. But I was tipped off to his True Identity by the red T-shirt and Frosty the Snowman suspenders.
Yes, kids – it was Santa Claus. The real, no-shit, honest-to-Gawd, gen-yew-wine Santa Claus.
Now I know where the old dude spends his off-season. In Georgia!