Inspired by Peacebang telling a sort of similar story, but not really.
So, right before the wedding, the CSO and I were taking some dancing lessons. I'm not great with schedules and the times for the lessons jumped around and one time he and I showed up at 6 for an eight o'clock lesson.
So we decided to get some dinner. We didn't know the area well, and after a lot of driving around, found a scary little southern buffet restaurant. Now the CSO hails from Charlotte, so scary little southern restaurants are nothing to him. In fact, down south, the scarier the clientele, the better the barbecue.
By that theory, this place would have been the Inn at Little Washington because the people inside were terrifying.
But hey, it's the CSO's heritage, so we ate there anyway. He proudly announced that he was drinking only his second glass of presweetened tea since coming to Washington. Our turned out to be competent if not inspired, and we were eating when Santa Claus came out of the men's room.
Item: It was mid-October.
We watched, amused/appalled as Santa walked around the room, greeting children and giving them candy.
It was weird, kids. Really weird.
But what cemented the incident forever in our minds was a booming female voice from the other side of the room.
"Get BACK heh! That ain't no DAMN Santa Claus! He be TRIPPIN!"
Looking at this story on paper, it's not that funny.
I've tried retelling it, it's not that funny.
But I kid you not, I walked into the living room giggling five minutes ago and the CSO asked what was up.
"He be trippin!" I responded and we both laughed anew. Hard. Tears coming to my eyes.
Guess you had to be there.