Hollis Thompson and Robert Covington were finishing up their Christmas shopping at a Philadelphia-area mall when a familiar face caught Hollis’ eye. He elbowed his teammate and pointed towards the food court, asking, “is that who I think it is?”
Robert peered into the thronged mass of kids, all clutching their parent’s hands so as to not get separated, waiting in line to meet Santa. He didn’t know who he was looking for, so he was scanning the crowd looking for men taller than all the surrounding people. “Who? I don’t see anybody.”
“Santa, you dummy, look at Santa!” Hollis explained, continuing to point. “Look familiar?”
“No way,” Robert said as he directed his eyes towards the jolly bearded man sitting on the overlarge armchair. “It’s Sergio. It’s gotta be.”
“Let’s get in line,” Hollis said suddenly, his eyes wide as if the idea was the most important thing in the world. “We can tell Santa exactly what we want for Christmas.”
Robert looked down at the shopping bags in his hands, then back up at his companion. “But we still got, like, five stores to hit up and that line’s gotta be an hour long.”
“Come onnnnnn,” Hollis whined, walking towards the starting point of the line. “Sergio would be soooo pissed.”
“Fine,” sighed Robert. “It would be kinda funny.”
—
“Recognize us, Santa?” said Hollis wryly as he and Robert walked up to their teammate. From this close distance there was no mistaking who it was. “Hey, isn’t your beard supposed to be white?”
“Man, what are you guys doing here? Didn’t you read the sign? No unaccompanied adults!” Sergio replied, ignoring the question about his beard color. “If you leave now, I won’t tell anybody that you waited in line for 45 minutes just to harrass your teammate who, by the way, is making a thousand bucks per appearance.”
“Yeah, and if you let us sit on your lap and tell us your Christmas wishes we won’t tell team management that you’re breaching your contract by taking on a side job,” Hollis retorted.
Looking mildly defeated, Sergio patted his legs. “Hop on.” At this invitation, Robert and Hollis awkwardly climbed onto their teammate’s lap. “Ho ho ho. What do little Hollis and little Bobby want for Christmas this year?” Sergio wheezed, clearly getting crushed by the combined weight of his two larger teammates.
“I want a point guard who can shoot!” Hollis exclaimed in the high-pitched voice of an awestruck little boy. “And a Nintendo!”
“What about you, little Bobby?” asked the annoyed Sergio.
Robert shrugged. “Um, just some hoes and a Lambo, I guess.”
“Too bad, you ain’t getting jack from Santa this year,” Sergio snarled. “Now get off my legs before they have to amputate them. Ho ho ho.”
“Love you too, Santa,” Hollis said sarcastically, giving Sergio a big hug and snuggling into his beard. “See you at practice.”
Sergio rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. Just get out of here. Ho ho ho and merry Christmas to the biggest pair of assholes I’ve ever had to play with.”