You
Check out where you fit into the Thanksgiving table.
That’s right. Some five or six people away from Jesus, or in our case “The Provider.” Directly at the end of the table This is the best spot. You’re able to see it all, but if you don’t really give a damn, you can stare at the Turkey mounted in the middle of the table and wonder what sticking your hand up inside one of those bad boys… or girls feels like.
You’ve got an exit behind you that, if it came down to it, you’d easily be able to slide through and abort a Turkey Day gone wrong, but only if it comes to that.
Surrounding you are the cousins who don’t really care that you were probably up super late last night binge drinking with your brahs, bro. Or that last week you sold a kidney and donated some plasma so that you could buy Skyrim.
This is the safest place to be because by the time the conversation has made its way to you….well, let’s be serious, the conversation will probably never make it to you, and that’s all the better! Who wants to be bugged while they’re arranging their plate so that the mashed potatoes and corn don’t touch, man?
The cousin(s) who understand
These are your typically your slightly older cousins who have been there and done that. Sure, they can tell that the bags under your eyes were caused from something other than “just rolling out of bed,” but they’re not about to call you out on it. They want to be here just as little as you do. The faster you guys are able to acquire the rolls and some of that white meat, the better.
Next year, you may want to ask for your very own table. Just you, and the people who understand. That is, if your typically older cousins don’t grow up and realize that all the food served on Thanksgiving is available…oh, every other day of the year at places like Boston Market and Perkins.
The “Outlier”
We’ve all got one. The family member who wears too much perfume or who continually asks the same questions over and over again. Or maybe this year, it’s something like trying to light up a Virginia Slim at the Thanksgiving Table. No smoking inside, Aunt Lucy!
This person is the odd ball.The family member that everyone else argues over inviting. The best part is… they never have any idea. Sit close to this person only because the things they will end up doing will no doubt be funny. But…don’t get too close, or you may end up with some gravy and ash on your lap when Aunt Lucy misses her plate.
The Drinkers
These are the family members who never quite figured out that a 3 o’clock family Thanksgiving Dinner on a Thursday isn’t exactly the opportune time to polish off three bottles of that Yellow Tail. But who cares?
It tasted good with the Cranberry Salad and it even covered up the tasted of that shitty green bean casserole that Aunt Lucy the outlier insisted upon bringing.
Sit fairly close to these fine folks. Their shakey hands may make it a little hard when the gravy comes around, but…who doesn’t end up with a few stains on their clothes at every Holiday gathering?
The Provider
Typically the eldest of the family members, the provider is the one who makes this delicious feast happen every year. They slave away for hours cooking the turkey and preparing the dressings. They set the table, clean the house and arrange for all the guests to come. They are the ones who invite Aunt Lucy.
Or they call up Bob Evans, get the Thanksgiving Meal To-Go and pretend like they did all that extra work. But in reality, who cares? It’s free food that isn’t MDR. Let this person begin and end the meal, or else.
The Football-crazed
The people who are awake and alive on this glorious day to celebrate more than just the founding of a nation. They’re awake to celebrate the fact that in a few short hours, they’re going to be able to run downstairs to the television, recline on their leather La-z Boys and watch a bunch of rough and tumble dudes go to town on the boob tube.
Alright man, what a way to celebrate two various groups coming together to give thanks! If at all possible, sit as far away from these people as you can. They aren’t worried about the quality of the sweet potatoes, or that the salt is a few inches out of your reach. They’re worried about one thing, and one thing only: FOOTBALL.
“Le Judgers”
Ahh… the family members that everyone loves the most. Not. These are the ones who are going to play “I’m-going-to-ask-you-the-most-outrageous-questions-I-can-about-your-short-time-at-college-just-to-prove-how-much-better-I-am-without-you-noticing.” But screw that nonsense. The only way to take care of a problem like this is to hit the situation head on.
“How’s your time at school, child? Have you completed any research or gotten any of your work published yet? Our son Charlie has almost completed his second novel and he’s only two.”
“Nah, dude, but I did pick up a real dope drug habit, a criminal record, and one of my baby’s mommas said she ‘bout to come thru for me real big.”
Boom. Stick that in your turkey and stuff it, ya’ judger! Sit as far away from these people as possible. But close enough where they are able to see you dribble slobber and food left-overs from your chin when you catch them giving you the evil eye.
