Santa at the Gas and Go

I saw Santa today, at the Phillips 66 Gas and Go down on the corner of Santa Fe St. and Laurel Drive. He was working the counter, selling gas and diesel, candy, cigarettes and pop to the patrons of the filling station. It must be the price of reindeer chow that has forced him into an off-season career as a convenience store clerk. Well, it can't be the price of gas, after all. He doesn't use any of that...at least I never thought he did.

I pulled in to fill up my car tonight, it was running on fumes, again, and there he was. Chubby, pink-cheeked, gold wire-rimmed specs and a warm smile, Santa Claus. At the Gas and Go. I usually pay at the pump, but when I saw him inside the station, I selected the "Pay Inside" button, just so I could check it out in person.

I put $40 of regular in Dora (I named the car Dora, like "Dora, the Explorer"), and went in to pay. I gave my Phillips 66 card to Santa. "Anything else?", he inquired. "No, thanks", I said. I was trying NOT to stare. He was wearing a shirt with the Gas and Go logo on it, but no embroidered name. Well, it was pretty obvious who he was, so I guess he didn't really need his name stitched on there for all to see.

I was pushing my way out the door, and he said, "Merry Christmas, come again." Oh my.

I saw Santa at the Gas and Go.