The Tailor smiled at your snowy beard as she sowed buttons onto your crimson coat. You smiled back, a half-conscious response. You knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘He looks just like Santa Claus’.
The store-clerk nodded approvingly as you handed him an oversized sack. The same thoughts were flashing through his brain and it was second nature to encourage them.
The man at the gun shop was different. Didn’t even bother to glance up from his copy of ammunition weekly as he handed you the silencer. You smirked, ‘Silent night’ indeed. At Christmas red was better camouflage than black.