Who has a giant, inflatable turkey in their front yard? Come on, raise your hand. Both hands if you have a spotlight shining on it. Go ahead, be proud of your holiday cheer. I kind of enjoy Thanksgiving, so I had to work a holiday scene into Sins of Long Ago, and have fun with it.
Vincent and Gen end up in a Denny's on Thanksgiving and I have to confess, I've been there, done that. A boyfriend and I were in a new city, without family or friends. I didn't want to cook, so we planned to have dinner at a restaurant we knew was open. We walked in, were led to a dirty table by a hostess with a bad attitude, and sat down. The place was so dismal, I could feel a grey cloud hanging over it. No one was smiling. I mean no one. Not the patrons, not the servers, not even the poor kids who landed in that depressing spot. We waited at our table for ten minutes and hadn't even been acknowledged, so we took off, certain we could find another place open. We were wrong.
By the time we made it to Denny's, we were tired, hungry, crabby and not in a real festive mood. In Sins, when my hero and heroine visit the restaurant, at least the the server and the other customers are cheerful. This was not the case at my Holiday Disaster Dinner and I vowed to never end up in that situation again.
This year, I'm thankful to have my honey and his mom and a friend to share the day with. Sad because I can't be with my out-of-state family. I'm sure there will be some weirdness involved in the day, and I'll embrace it, because weirdness makes good stories.
Have a beautiful holiday and find the joy in whatever you do.
I'd just said goodbye to a friend in hospice and stepped into an empty elevator, ready to cry a few tears. The elevator moved down, stopped, and I got out. Wrong floor. I stepped back in, pushed the button, nothing happened. I got out again, thinking maybe I was in the lobby after all. But no, I was on another floor and in the hallway nearby, a group of three people stood, talking and laughing. How rude of them to be happy, when I was so sad. I jammed the button again but the car wouldn't move.
The noisy folks moseyed over to the elevator, pushing a big cart, smiling at me. So I had to smile back. Sort of. The last thing I felt like doing was joking around with strangers. I must have looked upset because a man in the group with a mustache apologized, and told me he'd been pushing the button to keep the elevator there. No wonder I couldn't get the doors to close. I kept my polite smile in place but really wanted to get outside so I didn't have to be nice to these people.
Then, he opened the cooler on the cart and offered me ice cream. This group, apparently, was connected to the human resource department, or something along that line, and they were passing out treats to employees that night. They had leftover ice cream bars and granted, they just wanted to get rid of them, I'm sure, but still. Being offered a treat felt like such a kindness to my sad little heart.
When we made it to the lobby, Mustache Guy saw me looking around somewhat confused (I didn't wear my glasses inside. Vanity, vanity). He offered to show me to the front door. More kindness. We chatted politely, shared a laugh, and I headed home, my soul lighter than when I'd left the hospital room. Thank you, strangers in the elevator, for making a sad night a little less painful.
Big thanks to Paul Wilkinson at Flickr for the photo http://bit.ly/1PxPiLe
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