How I mistook Satan for Santa Clause

Somewhere in the five foot five inch range, stood a man with more strands of silvery white hair on the sides of his sun burned head than on the top. His nose a rosy hue contrasted sharply with the yellowing of his teeth. An Affliction tee one size two small, stretched to it's limit over the mound of belly that bounced ever so lightly as he laughed his sinister laugh. His eye's brilliant and blue, twinkling as I walked into the room. In front of him sat a silver Apple laptop; the glowing apple logo casting a shimmering glow on the "present" sitting behind the display atop the short, shabby, perfectly square motel table...

I, a preppy, white, 24 year old, Orange County, BMW driving, gay man had officially met my first drug dealer; and before I realized it, my new boss.

Satan? I think so....