This weekend started the annual Thanksgiving Debate.
A little background: If tuna is “Chicken of the
then turkey is “Chicken of the Devil.” I hate turkey. I hate everything
about it. Even further, I hate the whole concept of the “traditional
dinner” - stuffing and cranberry sauce and greens and turkey and mashed
potatoes and rolls and all that crap. Hate it. Hate it.
Not to mention I’m not altogether keen on the “large family gathering”
thing. I can deal with immediate family members, I can deal with my
grandparents, etc., etc., but I can’t deal with them all
simultaneously. As Mom says, “it drives me bug-ass crazy.”
So. Thanksgiving every year involves me carting ass to two different
houses - Jenn’s family dinner and my family dinner - just to get there
and go through the whole “you don’t like turkey?” discussion. It goes
Relative: You don’t like turkey?
Travis: No. I don’t. I haven’t liked turkey for years.
Relative: (Incredulous) How can you not like turkey?
Travis: Is there a food you don’t like?
Relative: Sure. I don’t like [insert food here].
Travis: How can you not like [insert food here]?
Relative: Because it’s gross. But turkey? Everyone likes turkey.
Travis: Well, obviously not everyone likes turkey.
Relative: Whatever. I guess you can just eat mashed potatoes and
rolls for dinner.
Travis: Hey, that sounds great. That way not only can I continue
sitting at the “kid table” and be kept from any decent dinner
conversation, but I can also sit alienated at that table because I
don’t want to eat what everyone else is eating. Fucking brilliant.
While you’re at it, why don’t you just give me a paper cut and pour
lemon juice on it?
And that pretty much sums up how the entirety of Thanksgiving Day goes
for me. I have that same conversation with every single relative, over
and over, until after dinner (which is at something like 4:00p… who’s
hungry at 4:00p?!?!), at which point I’m ready to go into a coma from
carb overload and that’s when people decide it’s time to play games.
I’ve declared a moratorium on Thanksgiving this year. I’m not going
anywhere. I’ll be at my own home. If people want to eat with me, they
can come over.
But no turkey.
Nope. None. I’ll go get some Chinese the night before and whoever’s
eating at my house can have Chinese with me. I’m a big fan of the
General Tso chicken.
Jenn’s told me that she doesn’t want to be there if I’m not having
turkey. You’d think that’d make me cave, but in reality, I don’t care.
If she wants turkey, she can haul over to the other side of town where
they’re eating turkey.
An additional issue has been raised this year, beyond the turkey issue:
We don’t have much furniture. We don’t have a full dining room set or a
load of extra chairs or anything. We have a couch, a bistro set, a
coffee table, and that’s about it. I admit there’s nowhere for people to
sit, barring the floor, which is a perfectly acceptable solution to me
and people in many, many other countries. I figure if people want
chairs, they should bring ‘em.
Does that make me unhospitable, or a “bad host?” Maybe. But I don’t
care. I’m tired of having the holidays turn into a rampant waste of my
paid time off. I’m on vacation, but it’s a huge chore and only leaves me
pissed off when it’s over.
Now I’ve gotta figure out how to tell Mom “no turkey.” We’ll see how