Thanks for the Memories

I want to talk about my Thanksgiving. 

I’m not a drinker so I don’t know exactly what went down… but apparently, a bunch of things happened. 

Let me just preface this by saying I don’t drink alcohol, by choice. I’m not in recovery, I don’t have to attend AA meetings because of some legal infraction, no one took out a restraining order against me because I tried to fight them drunk, and I never wandered around naked like some drunks do. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with being an obnoxious drunkard who gets into nothing but trouble and likes to be naked. 

ahem

Anyway, I was planning a Thanksgiving dinner and one of the dishes included wine, and to be honest, I can’t remember which dish. All I know is, I had to get a bottle of red wine as part of the preparation. 

So when I was at the supermarket standing in front of the reds, which looked delicious by the way, and… what? Am I not supposed to comment on how delicious red wine looks just because I don’t drink the stuff? Anyway, I was trying to decide which one to get, but there were a lot of really good ones and it was making it tough to choose, so I decided to get two bottles because I wasn’t sure which one would work best with the dish I was making.

When I got home I realized how foolish it was of me to buy two bottles of red wine when I only needed one. I mean c’mon, the second one was obviously an impulse buy, and we all know how that goes.

So I went back to the supermarket to return one of the bottles, only to discover you can’t return alcohol; the supermarket won’t take it back as a return. They probably assume no one in their right mind would want to return a bottle of alcohol… I mean, how stupid would that be? 

Since I had two bottles of red wine to cook with, I decided to make two dishes that included red wine, although for the life of me I can’t remember either of them. All I know is that when Thanksgiving rolled around, I was in the kitchen tasting all this red wine to make sure it was suitable and everything, and boy was it ever!

Well the next thing I know I’m downing a bunch of the stuff ‘cause I had forgotten how delicious red wine can be. Now, when I say “a bunch”, I really mean a very small glass, because I don’t drink. It tasted pretty damn good to me and I knew it would go really well with the steak I was about to grill.

Oh yeah, that was one of the dishes I was cooking – steak! 

But this is where it started to get really weird, because I’m a vegetarian.

Not only that, I have no idea where I got the steak, either. I think I may have slaughtered a cow. Now please don’t get upset with me for saying that, I mean, it’s not like I go around murdering cows. What I’m saying is, I don’t know for sure if I did or not because a lot of fucked up shit went down on Thanksgiving!

For one, I remember I had an early dinner because I needed to get some food in my stomach right away…  clearly I’m not used to dishes made with red wine… and then everything was over by eleven a.m. Only, I can’t remember who my guests were. I know my two cats were there… 

… and I think I may have had words with my neighbors on their front lawn… but again, I don’t know. 

I do remember getting in my car at some point and driving somewhere, and the only reason I remember that is because of how relaxed I felt behind the wheel. Normally, I get really agro because people are such shitty drivers and I hate them… but not this time. This time I was waving to everybody, wishing them a great day, and reminding them to have red wine with their meal. Plus, my driving was impeccable!

Eating that early in the day meant I went to bed really early too. I needed a nap, Thanksgiving cooking is exhausting! Well I woke up around eight p.m. with my cat licking me on the lips, which only leads to one conclusion: 

… 

Okay, there’s probably more than one conclusion, but anyway, when I rolled over to look at the time, I heard a crunching noise and pulled a foil bag out from under me, and I noticed there were a bunch of them strewn across the bed. They were empty bags of chocolate drizzled peppermint popcorn and there were at least twelve of them, probably representing the Twelve Days of Christmas… 

… but this is where it gets really weird, because I don’t eat popcorn… 

… and it’s not fucking Christmas yet.

I didn’t realize how much you gotta pee after eating dishes containing red wine either. I mean, I really had to go. But when I got to the bathroom, I felt a string hanging out, you know, down “there”, and realized I had used a tampon. I can assure you, I’m not on my period. I don’t even have tampons in the house, which only leads to one conclusion:

…

Okay, there’s probably more than one conclusion.

At this point I realized I needed to get some fresh air and clear my head, so I went out front and when I looked over at my neighbor’s house, they were outside decorating a big statue of Santa Claus on their front lawn, and when they saw me they waved. Clearly the words I had gotten into with them earlier was just water under the bridge. Right? I mean… I couldn’t have had words with a Santa statue, that would be completely stupid and…

… no, of course I didn’t.

ahem

Personally, I am so thankful this holiday only comes around once a year because otherwise, it could be misconstrued that I drink alcohol, and I do not.

*hiccup*