SEASON'S BEATINGS (cont.)

THE DREADED "POT LUCK" THANKSGIVING

It's your own damn fault. You should've known better than to spend Thanksgiving with this sort of a liberal. She's got all kinds of multicultural vegetarian friends, and they come up with this brilliant concept: Everyone bring a dish that represents his or her own cultural background! Meat-free options are strongly encouraged! So there you are, gazing at curried beets; focaccia; hot and spicy noodles; whole-wheat, sugar-free apple pie with peels; and a tofu turkey that's bigger than a real turkey. Needless to say, your disappointment is only heightened by the conversation over dinner....


    


THE "NOT ENOUGH TIME OFF TO REALLY DO ANYTHING" THANKSGIVING

You've got one day off. Just one. Thanksgiving Day. Not enough time to go home, not enough time to even go shopping. You didn't plan ahead at all, since you knew you had only one day off. So the night before, you call all your friends to find a dinner, any dinner, to join, knowing full well you won't know anyone there. So much for family tradition.


    


THE DREADED "I DON'T NEED STUPID TRADITIONS LIKE THANKSGIVING" THANKSGIVING

You've screwed up Thanksgiving before. This year, you've vowed not to repeat the mistakes of the past. No plan sounds quite right: Your friend Jon can't cook. Your boyfriend is going to his brother's for dinner. Your girlfriends are going to Hawaii, but you've made that mistake before. So this year, you're going to ignore Thanksgiving. You don't need it! The night before, you rent A Perfect Murder, buy several pints of Ben & Jerry's, and roll a few joints. "This is going to be the best Thanksgiving ever!" you think. Think again.


    


A PERFECT THANKSGIVING!

Similar to A Perfect Murder, which ends as all Michael Douglas movies should end, with his slow demise and untimely death, "A Perfect Thanksgiving" is a work of total fiction. The perfect Thanksgivings you remember weren't actually perfect.


    


Still, here's hoping your Thanksgiving is as good as it can be.


    





 

words
Polly Esther

pictures
Terry Colon

 
 
 

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