Oh You Don't Know the Shape I'm In

I work retail so P going on another road trip Thanksgiving week was not a particular concern to me at the time.  That is until the actual day came.  That morning I thought I was surely the loneliest soul on the planet. And I have this weird pension for building on the theme.  I don't like being sad but at least it's familiar.  I kindled the fire by playing Sinatra on loop early and officially set the day to sludge.  I kept the room dark and tried to list all the things I was grateful for but instead considered all my failings until I successfully reached a melancholy coma.

I worked the night before and had our staff cafeteria version of Thanksgiving dinner.  It was interesting.  All the soul was beaten out of those potatoes long before along with everything else on that plate. The Lingonberry sauce was a great Swedish twist and to be honest overall, it was really cool they took the time to do this as they do every year.  Management even serves the plates with their best version of put on holiday cheer.  For some of us, this would be the only Thanksgiving dinner.

Thank goodness for a bud and a good idea to see Martin Scorsese's The Last Waltz playing loud at a local theater.  And as a very special bonus it included Thanksgiving dinner.  The concert was recorded on Thanksgiving day 11/25, 1976, one of my favorite years.  How special to watch it on the big screen. And the food was actually really good complete with a slice of pecan pie at the end.  No pictures unfortunately as there is a strict no cell phone policy.  In fact we had to eat the entire meal in the dark, just looking at shadows and relying on your taste buds to identify the flavors. Roasted carrots, turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes, a very interesting stuffing and cranberry sauce with a big biscuit.  Just enough to be very full and leave a little on the plate.

If I had to be without traditional family at least it was comforting to have Dylan, Van Morrison and Young live in 35MM film and not to mention my real bud to share the holiday.  

Any Day Now, Any Day Now, I Shall Be Released

On this day, the only thing I had to get right was these baked wedged garlicky potato fries.

And I did.

They had free cupcakes at work for selling so much particle board furniture.  And for some reason that made me sad, after I had one of course.  Life is weird.  I could never have imagined spending so many years working inside this huge, practically windowless store selling kitchen cabinets of all things.  I know this experience has changed me.  My fear is that I now have some rotting, unfix-able parts.  Retail does something to a person.  I fell victim to a bit of moral decay and a slight indifference to just about everything.  What I love about it is that it forces an introvert like me into the world.  I talk to a lot of different people every day but not just for a second.  This is concentrated time.  In fact its a conveyor belt of customers for hours until it's finally over.   I do meet so many amazingly cool people.  Lots of folks that I never really noticed that live in the world. Middle to older aged men, contractors, husbands, fathers. A lot of guy guys, who are normally out of my comfort zone.  Without all the bells and whistles of youth and good looks, it's almost more impressive and magnetic when you connect with them.  And women. Single ladies and couples who aren't particularly anything come in, one after another.  Not young, not pretty, not fun, just a person or people that need to get something done and there I am, the receiver on the other end.  I'm like the glory hole of customer service.  I have to take anyone who comes in and in Brooklyn that can mean so many things. Too many things.  Lots of language barriers.  Many cultural differences.  Some, I assume are good people. Some people are straight up assholes though.  They tend to come in droves. But a transaction goes down none the less. I'm bothered every time I have a bad encounter and rarely harp on the good.  I question all of my life choices that brought me to stand on this concrete floor at that moment.  Do I deserve better?  What does anyone deserve really?  Am I to blame?  Most likely.  Do I give two fucks about anything enough to change it?  God, I hope it so.