I saw Santa eating Chick-fil-a

Today I went to lunch at the very exciting food court in the underground of the Bank of America building. Right as we emerged from a dark tunnel into the bright and sunny food court, I saw him. Santa.

He was sitting at a small table having lunch with a woman (who was definitely not, by the way, Mrs. Claus). He had flowing white hair that merged into a flowing white beard that reached down to the middle of his chest, settling just above his round belly. His long-sleeved shirt was bright red. All as it should be.

I interrupted my friend in the middle of his sentence to say, "Quick. To your left. Santa."

He was speechless. I was speechless. We both forgot all about his story of Thomas Jefferson and two dollar bills. After all, who can talk about things of historical significance when you're in the presence of Santa Claus, St. Nick, Father Christmas himself? In a food court, no less. Santa.

Today may be Texas Independence Day, but March 2nd will go down in my history book as the day I saw Santa eating Chick-fil-a.