Thursday, November 23, 2006

Care for some gravy with that stuffin'?


I knew today was going to be a non-traditional Thanksgiving here at Chez Merde. No one was around to cook for. My closest family is a good 4.5 hours away in good weather and non-holiday traffic, and today it was still very chilly and drizzly. I'm not great driving in "weather" now, considering my depth perception/double vision driving paranoia, anyway.

So, I'd determined a few days ago that I would hunt for food out and about and catch a movie.

But it was sooo warm and nice in bed today, I just couldn't get motivated. Cold outside, warm in bed. Screw getting up and going out. I made a vaguely continental brunch of Black Forest ham and cheddar cheese, with some wee little mini dill pickles and a glass of milk. Yeah, it's a weird combo. So sue me.

I watched a couple of episodes of "The Closer" on TNT and pondered my dwindling options for the day. Stay at home? Do some writing? Or hit the road? I was completely weighed down with indecision.

But then, Angry Indian Doctor and Submissive Girl very helpfully made up my mind for me.

Around 2 p.m., my fine upstairs neighbors decided to embark on a new holiday tradition... the, uh, stuffing of her cavity with his giblets... on the living room floor. As Kyra Sedgwick "Thank yew'ed" her way through some Los Angeles crime, the neighbors got it on above, no holds barred. Yes, there's nothing that says "wholesome Norman Rockwell family holiday" like people going at it like rabid bunnies overhead. As usual, Submissive Girl began to wail and bark just as the, uh, Reddi-Wip* hit the pumpkin pie...

Things quieted down, as things tend to do, but, after a relatively brief pause, our revelers went back for seconds. Determined to make an escape before things really started to rock, I headed for the door. Alas, the shrieking had already begun by the time I hit the hallway. There, stock still like deer in headlights, stood the elderly parents of another neighbor. Dad stood poised to knock on a door, hand stuck in mid-air. Mom just looked horrified, her faced turned toward the stairwell, from whence came the cries of our panting Pilgrims, at least one of whom uttered a twisted Thanksgiving grace: "OH GOOOOD! OH MY GOOOOOD! OH JESUS! YES, GOD!"


(Well, hey, at least they had not forgotten their Lord and Savior before digging in for another heapin' helpin' of lovin'.)

The smell of turkey floating through the corridor couldn't shake the creepy feeling that we were unwilling voyeurs. I wished the old folks a happy holiday and split.

I ended up driving in the rain, listening to music on my iPod, reading the Washington Post outside the Hellmouth 7-11 (yes, I know better than to go there), and then taking in a showing of "Stranger Than Fiction." I read a review tonight on Rotten Tomatoes that sums up my feelings about it: "Finally, a Charlie Kaufman movie for people who are too stupid to understand Charlie Kaufman movies." Yep, that about does it. Not bad, really, but not particularly good, either.

By the time I got out of the theater, virtually everything was closed except for one Chinese restaurant. So, I slapped down a little cash for some carryout, and headed home to watch "Ugly Betty" and eat my lo mein in blissful silence. I think that Angry Doc got enough breasts and thighs for today before I got back to my place. And for that, I am truly thankful this evening.

Dear god, what happens if the people upstairs want leftovers tomorrow? They do say that those Thankgiving goodies are always better the second day.

Think I'll hit the coffee shop tomorrow a.m. and never look back...



*For my friends outside of the United States, Reddi-wip is a spray whipped cream generally only seen on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Girls Gone Wild videos...

9 comments:

E :) said...

LOL! Loved the picture of the tanned turkey. Fit your story perfectly.

And let's just hope the upstairs neighbours don't go back for seconds.

Janet M. Kincaid said...

Well... it sounds like you had a really special Thanksgiving! (Note tongue in cheek wittiness.) I loved the part about the horrified parents of your neighbors! Those poor, poor people. L'edMAO reading this and had to read it to my siblings, who also cracked up.

Here's hoping there are no seconds...

Janet M. Kincaid said...

Well... it sounds like you had a really special Thanksgiving! (Note tongue in cheek wittiness.) I loved the part about the horrified parents of your neighbors! Those poor, poor people. L'edMAO reading this and had to read it to my siblings, who also cracked up.

Here's hoping there are no seconds...

Cyn said...

Is there really a market for the sexy pilgrim costume? Is there a whole Mayflower fetish thing I've somehow never heard of? Nurse, maid, cheerleader -- those I understand.

I mean, even a costume that featured turkey pasties couldn't make that cap sexy.

Anonymous said...

Your upstairs neighbors are the reason I've never had upstairs neighbors...too much chance of noise pollution. Very funny imagery, though. I'd hate to see what their version of a "Redi-Whip" looks like...

Pirate Twin said...

I started snickering when you brought up Chinese takeout. I was just sure you were going to say that you sang "fa ra ra ra ra," all the way home.

Bumpises !! See, your upstairs neighbors are your Bumpises. Just be glad they don't have six smelly hound dogs.

BTW -- I'm sure you were in line at 3 a.m. to buy bargains at CompUSA or wherever. Right? Try not to put any caps in any asses over the PS3, ok? :)

spocko said...

You really need to tape them and put their sounds up on itunes. 99c times several million people!

Or maybe just for us here for giggles.

Sudiegirl said...

Oh my...nothing says "happy holidays" like paper-thin ceilings and rabid sex from the upstairs neighbors, eh?

If I'd known you wuz a-gonna be all by your lonesome, I'd have brought you along with us!

:-(

Maybe for X-mas, no?

Claire said...

I see what you're saying about Stranger than Fiction, but I enjoyed it all the same. I really like picturing Linda Hunt coming in for a day of work, spending it saying "That's schizophrenia" with all the subtle variations one can give that matter-of-fact statement. Good times.