Thanksgiving

As we all know, the Boogie Man is a fan of good food and copious libation. Both things that can be facilitated at one's friendly liquor store. And seeing as Thanksgiving is at the backdoor, and knowing I would be needing a bit of bourbon to spice up the T-Day ham and a bit of some other stuff to keep me in a tolerable mood. A trip there was very much in order.

I am a T-Day eve shopper. I run to the stores to pick up most, if not all, my ingredients on the day before the holiday. I've done it every year since I took over feast duties in my home, so I guess it's technically a tradition. Mostly, it's procrastination. Not a big deal, since my needs are few. And clearly, it's not an uncommon thing.

I'm sure we're all familiar with the mad rush that brings otherwise rational people into our nation's grocery stores, and has them run around like crazed lunatics. People trying very hard to be composed as they walk down every aisle, and yet are fully prepared to rip the arms off of any passerby who might dare take that last package of marshmallows. Grocery stores pre T-Day are kind of like walking into a den of sleeping lions. No matter how light you tread, your ass is going to be gnawed upon.

I have done this Thanksgiving ceremony thing long enough to expect this sort of behavior. It's all part of the ritual, we fight long and hard getting those last bits of edibles, and then stuff ourselves sick the next day. So, none of this was surprising. At least not until I got to the liquor store.

You see, I've never had to stop by the ol' booze market on pre T-Day. That's one of the few things I typically keep well stocked for months in advance. But, on this auspicious year, I neglected my escapes. And as such, I was going to have to tackle the crowds that were, like me, preparing to give thanks in an altered state.

I pulled up to the store, fully expecting to see a packed parking lot and rushed individuals with brown baggies. And in this I was not disappointed. However, I was quite surprised with what I saw once I got into the store.

There were lots of people, no question. And they were, of course, hurredly rushing through the store buying large amounts of high proof alcohol. But the vibe was different. Here, there was a sense of.....dare I say it.............courtesy.

People made their selections, and quickly moved out of the way of others. Everyone stayed very close to the edge of the aisle, leaving ample room for others to negotiate through. And when I stood in front of a shelf considering my options, the people who walked passed me, did so with great haste, and all uttered a hushed and very polite "excuse me." And it wasn't like they were taking up huge amounts of space in those aisles, nor did they stand and linger in front of my field of vision. But because they instinctively knew that the decisions I made in front of these glass lined shelves, would completely affect the quality of my holiday. And they were giving me the wide berth so I could operate with the least amount of distractions.

Compared to the freakish insanity of the grocery store, getting booze was quite calm. Very pleasant. The people I was with weren't heavily tattooed ruffians, nor were they swaggering, slurring menaces who had already taken one too many hits off the sauce. These were regular folks, still dressed in classy clothing fresh out of their jobs. These were everyday people with husbands and children, who lived responsibly. One mother actually brought her sleeping child with her while she picked out a couple bottles of Chardonnay. And I couldn't fault her for it. Because I knew that, odd as this may have looked, this woman would most likely be stuck in the kitchen all day cooking up a huge meal, and trying to make nice with all the other moms that would be coming to her home. I knew what she was going through, and if she wanted to keep her child close while she picked up some incentives, so be it.

Once I had made my choices, I stood in line with my new friends. All of whom stared out the big bay windows of the liquor store and into the night with a glazed expression on their face. Every few seconds, they'd take a big breath and let out a quiet refrained sigh. They knew, just like I did, that everything from this point on would be hectic.

Now, I openly admit that the big T-Day isn't nearly that much of a strain on me. Oh sure, I get grouchy in the kitchen, and expect that everyone should be ready to eat the minute the bird is pulled out of the oven. But I don't have the stresses that many do. Others have to deal with more than food on this day. They have to deal with family. Strained relationships that people avoid like the plague, except for special days like today. Trying to make small talk and stay pleasant in small, overcrowded houses with people you're not especially comfortable around. All the while, screaming children run around you playing with your appliances and breaking shit. These are tough times, and for four or five hours out of the day, it's all you can do to not start strangling people and screaming, "Tell your kids to sit down, shut up, and behave already you vindictive, overly dramatic twat!" This is family, all at a family function, and such overly dramatic bursts of relief cannot happen. And this is why so many turn to the booze to lighten things up. A couple sips can, and often do, make things just bearable enough.

So I find myself in a new tradition now. Visiting the liquor store every pre T-Day, even if I don't need anything. Just to spend a little time with my overly stressed and exhausted companions in this wacky holiday. A holiday that should be far simpler than it is. Thanksgiving is supposed to be about eating, enjoying, and getting the hell on out. And yet, it's been blown into something overly dramatic. Something that people dread. And I don't like that. I'm here to eat well, have some laughs, then sit in a pile of fat and grease, slowly slipping into a endorphine-fueled coma. I don't need the stress of other people's emotions, or the need to make a moment of family magic on a day like today. Just let me enjoy myself, and try to enjoy it with me. Even if that means watching bad television half dazed on a couch, if you and I are having fun, then it's been a good day.

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I hope you eat well and completely waste the day on laziness, sloth, and goofiness. May your families be not nearly as annoying today, may the children be a little more quiet. And may your newly purchased alcohol be used sparingly to fuel a good time, instead of liberally to escape a bad one.

All the best.