STAYING ELSEWHERE, WHILE IT LASTS

This Thursday and Friday I intend to do absolutely nothing. I shall not watch sports on television, not consume turkey, stuffing, or pumpkin pie, and won't go out shopping, or visit the cinema. Instead, I will enjoy the peacefulness that always descends upon my neighborhood at this time, when people largely go elsewhere. There will be no hullabaloo on the streets, which should be deserted, and my apartment will be mostly quiet as well.

My apartment mate is celebrating Thanksgiving twice. Once with her boyfriend, and once with her siblings. And she'll be taking food.

I do not know if I should describe her as lucky.

Seems like it may make her a bit tense.

Actually, that's guaranteed.

On both days, I expect that she will leave around mid-afternoon, not to return till it is time to go to sleep. After the front door closes behind her, I will make some buttered toast with jam, to have with tea.
Then enjoy a pipe and a good book.

I learned long ago that actively seeking the company of other people on Turkey Day is utterly depressing. Staying away from restaurants and drinking establishments is imperative; that way lies madness, as well as a severe contact-low.
Bars are nearly empty, and the only people there are grim loners.
Occasionally they flit up to the table of free food.
Then they'll order another drink.
One or more too many.

Black Friday, other than an opportunity to sneer at shoppers, doesn't mean much either.


AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

All in all, the entire past week has been a bit irritating, as everyone asks "what are your plans for the holiday?"

It might be caddish to explain that I have no plans, nothing lined-up, and do not intend to even try celebrating, as that would be both utterly pointless and quite depressing. The answer they expect is something indicating a happy social occasion, possibly family-involved, hearing about which will give them a warm vicarious glow.
The truth would simply embarrass them.

I do not wish to harsh their mellow.

"Oh me, I'm celebrating with "friends"; we're going to be at the home of one of them, and it will be such fun, we're all looking forward to it so much; great food, good cheer, gosh, really, wonderful."

[The friends: Charatan, Peterson, Comoy; all sterling pipe brands. Plus Orlik (Golden Sliced) and Samuel Gawith, which are tobacco. The food may even include a sandwich: salami and pepper-jack cheese. On a Kaiser roll. With mustard. And crisp green chili peppers. Or something.]


All of the week following Thanksgiving is going to be problematic also. The truthful answer to "how was your Thanksgiving" is likewise something that people would rather not hear. They want testimony to a grand old time, with loved ones and kinfolk, in a cozy environment, with lots of good things to eat, and everybody happy happy happy.

How was my Thanksgiving? Meaningless and quiet.
But at least I had tea, toast, and a good smoke.
On Friday I avoided crowded areas entirely.
Instead I read, had tea, and took a nap.

Both days will actually be quite good, as long as I avoid turkeys, football fans, shoppers, pointless chit-chat, and large multi-generational groups heading to movie theatres.
Friday, especially, should be good.
Less reason to scowl.


PLANS FOR THE HOLIDAY

First pipe of the day: mid-morning.
Second pipe: mid-day, after a pastry in Chinatown.
Third pipe: wandering back over Nob Hill through empty streets.
Fourth pipe: during the tea, but after the toast.
Fifth pipe: while drinking hot cocoa.

I've got several books to read.



My apartment is a sanctuary for the Thanksgiving-impaired.




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