I may have told this before but what the hell...
Years ago I working in the local grocery store.
At this time it was not common to get a fresh turkey for Thanksgiving. Unless you ordered one from your butcher a few weeks in advance you had to do what everyone else did and use a frozen one.
Thawing a turkey in cold water (the quickest recommended method) takes about 30 min per pound. Cooking then takes an additional 20 min a pound. So for a large group let’s say you have a 20 lb. bird. Your gonna need about 10 hours to thaw it out and an additional 6 or so to cook it, that’s 16 hours.
So I’m happily stocking the shelves one thanksgiving about noon, whiling the time away till I the store closes and I get off at 2:00, looking forward to the feast my mom had prepared...
When up walks a woman I’ll refer to as “Hysterical Nut Job” or HNJ©
HNJ asks me where we keep the turkeys. As I’m walking her over to the freezer I already know this is not going to go well. She asks where the fresh turkeys are and I explain the reality of the situation to her. We don’t carry them, no one in the area stocks them, you have to order one specially.
So back to the freezer we go. We pick out a bird, read the instructions, do the math and there you go. If you want turkey you’re going to be eating it at 4:00 in the morning.
This is when the hysterical part kicks in, she starts SCREAMING at me about the 25 people she has coming over at 3:00 and how they expect a full turkey dinner with all the trimmings and how she can NOT disappoint her new husband and all of her in-laws etc. etc. etc...
I tried to suggest turkey breasts, we have plenty of those & they don’t take long to make. This is completely unacceptable to HNJ and only serves to bring her wrath down upon me with greater vengeance. It MUST be a whole bird and it MUST be ready in 3 hours and she DEMANDS to know what I am going to do about it.
It is at this point that I relate to her in no uncertain terms just how seriously 16 year old boys take their part time jobs. As she prepares to unleash the full weight of her righteous fury, it sinks in. She realizes that she is quite screwed. In fact she could give Ron Jeremy a few pointers right now. Her only option left…fall on the floor in a quivering sobbing mess.
My only option left…clock out 2 hours early and go home to watch the game.
After all, I’m 16, I don’t need this shit.