Pumping Iron with Santa
by Sarina Dorie
I was on my third rep of overhead presses when Mitch shouted over the nineties punk rock blaring from the gym's speakers, "Bro, check out the guns on the big guy in the red suit."
Mitch dropped his dumbbell with a thunk and commenced to gawk. I glanced over my shoulder and did a double take at the man across from us in the gym. A jolly old man in a red muscle shirt was bench-pressing three hundred and ninety pounds in the corner. His hair was long and white and matched his wiry beard. For the briefest of moments I felt a spark of elation. My head filled with visions of sugarplums and twenty-pound jars of protein powder. I blinked the merry sensation away.
"You know who that is, don't you?" Mitch asked.