working thanksgiving

For most the day it did not feel like Thanksgiving. It may have been the absence of family but I think it may have been a little more allusive than that. I came to work early and treated the crowds with papcorn and holiday movies. They were fairly large crowds. It was clear that many of them were from out of town. In part because of the surprise at the $4 matinee tickets (as opposed to $12) but more directly because I heard at least 3 foreign languages (some kind of Arabic, Russian, and even some French), I guess with the diverse faculty that they have at Grinnell College comes even more diverse relatives.

After the 4 o’clock shows began, I bundled up and trudged across town (trudged is a slight exaggeration as we did not have any snow, but it was 20 degrees and very windy so I feel like it is justified). Two blocks away lives a nice man Kamal and his family. Kamal runs the best restaurant in town called the Phoenix and used to be my neighbor. I happened to run into him a week back and he had invited me over for some food, telling me they would be at the restaurant at not at their home, and that I should be there.

Entering the restaurant there was no one in sight but it did smell wonderful. As I came through the door they came into view carrying a tray of wine glasses (one kind for white wines and one kind for red) and a tub of ice holding the white wines, deep in a hearty conversation. They paused just long enough to pull me into the house (the restaurant is in a converted house) with a warm “come in. come in.” I fielded a few questions about where Brielle was and what my family what up to this Thanksgiving (it was ever so nice to have someone other than myself miss the presence of my fiancé) before they disappeared back into the kitchen. Just then a random uncle appeared and sat at the piano playing random tunes (he reminded me of a skinny Tom Waits who had never smoked). As I wandered in circles through the empty dining area I realized that this was not the intimate family affair that I had imagined. I counted 42 place settings.

I wandered into the kitchen in time to see Kamal and his brother cutting the turkey., well three turkeys to be specific, and setting out huge containers of beats, mashed potatoes, stuffing, steamed vegetables, and some kind of confetti colored cranberry dish. Snapping out of my food induced trance I noticed a small stream of people flowing through the front door carrying countless pies and whipped topping in a metal mixing bowl.

With conversation swilling all around me I began to feel out of place. It was nice to see their family interacting but this was not my family and these were not my conversations. Two aunts near my right were exchanging stories about their children and their respective grade schools both talking as though their children were not silently standing half behind each leg, I listened intently and not seeing a comfortable moment to join the conversation (for although I was wearing a shirt and tie at the time, I have cleaned up my share of baby vomit and dirty diapers) I turned around for my tenth trip around the empty dining area. For a moment I conceded that this was the most it would feel like Thanksgiving today and headed for my coat. It was the food that stopped me just short of the front door. Since this was technically my dinner break I decided that I should at least stay long enough to get a bite to eat.

Trying not to trip over the small children running around I filled my plate to the edges and sat down at the first big table. It only took about two minutes for me to realize that I had inadvertently picked the kids table. I racked my brain for good starter questions but only came up with the usual “Where are you from? How long are you staying? So you are all cousins or what?” Yeah, terrible I know. After the third awkward silence I began plotting my escape. For some reason I was sure they were having more fun at the table full of the crazy aunts or the one where the piano playing uncle had just sat down after finishing a rough but pleasant version of piano man. With most of my food left and a full glass of wine I was nowhere near a natural reason. As I put the final mental touches on my excuse to switch tables (which happened to include aliens and a tragic simultaneous third and four world wars if I were to stay at this table) I was unexpectedly saved from the awkwardness. At exactly the same moment, as if they silently agreed they had been hard enough on me, a conversation broke out on both sides of me one about the game of Risk going on upstairs and the other about the new Harry Potter movie. Feeling at home in the two conversations I participated equally in both and before long was laughing and debating musical tastes and general world domination with a huge smile on my face.

After going back for thirds and eating my share of the pies I headed back to the theatre, having already stayed a little longer than I should have. Carrying a box full of extra food for my employees back through the cold I smiled, although I was missing my family and my love, it was the kids and the laughing that really made it feel like Thanksgiving, and the food, which was amazing, quickly became a sideline bonus.