I’m in the stretching room at the gym. Two other guys there, in conversation. One’s an actor in his 70’s, chubby, white hair, white beard. Guy asks if he ever plays Santa Claus. No, actor says, but I know a guy who’s a professional Santa Claus. How he makes his living. No kidding, says the other guy, so do I. Excuse me for butting in, I say, but so do I. We compare notes; it’s not impossible that we might know the same guy, since we’re all from the neighborhood, etc. We don’t. Three random people at the gym all know different professional Santa Clauses. I love New York.
I love New York
Categories: Journal /