Maybe Santa will bring the Chargers a new stadium for Christmas
Matt Valenti, San Diego Free Press
. . .
On my way to Santa’s Village I stopped at the food court for a slice of pizza and a beer –which I considered a necessary refueling operation – and felt revived and ready for anything. That’s more than I could say for the children and their haggard looking parents waiting near the end of the line to see Santa. At the rate the line was moving some of these kids would reach puberty before they reached Santa’s Village.
Surely he must be taking his lunch break, I thought to myself, and shuddered at the likelihood – this being California – that he was a Union Santa. Even the elves were no doubt making at least minimum wage, and expecting a couple of ten minute paid breaks a day on top of it.
But no, union thugs weren’t to blame for this delay; Santa was in fact on duty, and hard at work.
It was the boy perched on his knee that was holding everything up. And he wasn’t actually a boy. He was a full-grown man, in a well-tailored suit, with a jewel-encrusted yellow and blue thunderbolt pinned to his lapel.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” bellowed Santa. “You’re going to have to speak a little louder, Dan. Santa’s hearing is not what it used to be, you know. Now what did you say you wanted for Christmas?”
The man with the thunderbolt pin smiled broadly and blushed, and seemed unable to speak from the excitement.
That’s when I saw another man step forward. He too was dressed in a suit, and with a chipper, handsome face and full head of silver hair looked reminiscent of Phil Donahue, only with slightly less bushy eyebrows. “His name’s not Dan, Mr. Claus,” said the man. “It’s Dean. And I’m Mark, his lawyer.”
The Donahue look-alike deftly tucked a business card into Santa’s gloved hand and smiled.
Santa looked somewhat confused but accepted the card with grace, giving it a polite look through his wire glasses. “Okay then, Dean,” he said, turning his attention back towards the man sitting on his lap, “What would you like for Christmas?”
Dean continued to blush, and seemed too bashful to speak for himself, so his lawyer chimed in. “He wants a new stadium for his football team, Mr. Claus.”
Hearing this, Dean’s mouth curled into a broad grin and he nodded ecstatically.
“His old stadium down the street is falling apart,” continued the lawyer. “Well, sort of, anyway. And he’s been asking for a new one for an awfully long time.”
Santa chuckled joyfully. He’d heard this sort of thing before. “And have you been a good little boy – er, man, this year?” he asked.
The lawyer held up his hand to caution Dean not to speak. “First of all, Mr. Claus, I object to your use of the term “good,” as being vague and ambiguous. On Dean’s behalf, I will answer that question only insofar as to state that Dean has not been found guilty of any crime or misdemeanor that he is required by law to disclose, during the twelve month period preceding today’s date.”
. . .
http://sandiegofreepress.org/2013/12/santa-claus-comes-to-friars-road/