Eating Out and Other Phenomena

Okay, now I am a woman, and heaven knows, I love to go out to eat. It means perfectly prepared food (usually), no dishes (always) and a lovely, relaxed dinner with no interruptions (sort of) like dogs whimpering for a snack or news on television reporting on new rapes, murders, highway deaths or terrorist attacks.

So, on the Big Day Of Food Gluttony (Thanksgiving), I know that I'm going to eat somewhere, whether at my house or someone else's, where there will be football, grunting, loud laughter and lots of alcoholic beverage. Not exactly candle-lit or pleasurable, but the food is usually served in copious amounts and it's usually damned good. If I cook, I'm in the kitchen until midnight the night before, preparing and cleaning and making sure there are no dishwasher spots on the wine glasses and there are enough forks to go around. I'm putting pine and balsam fir candles in strategic spots and checking the toilet paper supply in the bathrooms. I'm washing dogs and ironing the laundry and filling salt and pepper shakers. The cornbread stuffing with cranberries and walnuts is ready for the turkey, which is marinating in the Beer Fridge and the peach and apple pies are cooling on the side counters.

In a word, it's frenzied. It's chaos. It's a sleepless night. I'm totally worn out when my eyes pop open at 5 a.m.

So, this Thanksgiving, I'm going over to a friend's house, where we drink our alcohol of choice, talk about really important things like former boyfriends and husbands, current boyfriends and husbands and how great the sales at T.J. Maxx are going to be. We're eating turkey and stuffing and vegetables cooked in every manner of casserole preparation known to mankind. I'm bringing my world-famous Cheese Crispies ("it just wouldn't be a celebration without them") and a 12-pack of Stella. No pressures. Lots of new people to meet and laugh with.

The night before I went to pick up Chinese food. It's healthy-ish, and since I won't have the usual leftovers for lunch at my retail job on Black Friday, and not sure how much potluck will be left, I will have plenty to take. 

The place was packed, standing room only. The phones were ringing with take-out orders, the tables were full and mama-san looked like a deer in the headlights. As I sat on the designated "you have take-out, you sit here" bench, I overheard a woman standing there with her husband, complaining about all the people crammed into the small restaurant. 

"My goodness, look at all these people!" she screeched. "Heavens, you'd think people wouldn't be here, the day before Thanksgiving. It's really an outrage. I mean, you have so much food and it's Thanksgiving. Why are all these people eating out?"

Mama-san's son came over to the couple with two menus. "Table for two?" he asked.

"Yes, please," she replied.

'Nuff said.