Oh, and here’s some lunchtime reading about the drama that unfolded at my place on Thanksgiving.
This year for the very first time, I hosted Thanksgiving Dinner. I spend days preparing and cooking under the watchful eye of Mom.
We invited family and a few friends, 14 people total. Everyone knew we don’t do a Turkey, cause no one in my family likes it. I told everyone the two main ethnic dishes I was making. I also made a bunch of sides.
Thursday, late morning, I’m cooking and getting ready. Doorbell rings and it’s a food delivery. Huh!?!? It was a Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce and a few other things. The guy insisted that it was for me and I insisted that I didn’t order anything. Back and forth we went, he called the store manager several times, we both spoke to him. Finally, he left with the food. Clearly there was a mistake and that delivery was meant for someone else. I can’t accept something that’s not mine.
Guests start coming. A cousin arrives and asks if I got the food that she had delivered. WTF! She decided that every year, she goes to my Mom’s for Thanksgiving and we never have a traditional meal and this year she wanted one so she ordered it and had it sent over to my place.
I told her what happened, she was so upset with me. She started yelling at me for sending the delivery back, blah blah blah. We exchanged words. Basically, I told her that she should have informed me that she wasn’t happy with my menu and she’d like to have some food sent over. I would have been fine with it. But not to tell me and then expect me to accept a food delivery when I don’t think is for me! She spent the next 30 minutes on the phone trying to get that bird back!
And f*ck you cousin, my homemade mashed potatoes where better than your store bought ones.
Biff, it’s not “stripper-like glitter”…the Official Brownstoner Hookers are not “strippers.” They do it with their clothes on. Getting naked is not in their union contract.
“I’m braking to get my grub on…!”
THL, it’s not safe to drive and post on Brownstoner!
No good lunch suggestions here.
Oh, and here’s some lunchtime reading about the drama that unfolded at my place on Thanksgiving.
This year for the very first time, I hosted Thanksgiving Dinner. I spend days preparing and cooking under the watchful eye of Mom.
We invited family and a few friends, 14 people total. Everyone knew we don’t do a Turkey, cause no one in my family likes it. I told everyone the two main ethnic dishes I was making. I also made a bunch of sides.
Thursday, late morning, I’m cooking and getting ready. Doorbell rings and it’s a food delivery. Huh!?!? It was a Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce and a few other things. The guy insisted that it was for me and I insisted that I didn’t order anything. Back and forth we went, he called the store manager several times, we both spoke to him. Finally, he left with the food. Clearly there was a mistake and that delivery was meant for someone else. I can’t accept something that’s not mine.
Guests start coming. A cousin arrives and asks if I got the food that she had delivered. WTF! She decided that every year, she goes to my Mom’s for Thanksgiving and we never have a traditional meal and this year she wanted one so she ordered it and had it sent over to my place.
I told her what happened, she was so upset with me. She started yelling at me for sending the delivery back, blah blah blah. We exchanged words. Basically, I told her that she should have informed me that she wasn’t happy with my menu and she’d like to have some food sent over. I would have been fine with it. But not to tell me and then expect me to accept a food delivery when I don’t think is for me! She spent the next 30 minutes on the phone trying to get that bird back!
And f*ck you cousin, my homemade mashed potatoes where better than your store bought ones.
I’m braking to get my grub on and catch up on some trashy reality TV. Later losers!
But Biff, I was planning to marinate in some Charlie that night 🙁
I just ate a vegetable in a salad that was delicious and I have no idea what it was.
“So long as you don’t smell like “drug store” perfume you’re fine Biff.”
Open message to Brownstoner females planning to go to the Bell House on Thursday night:
Please do not wear “drug store” perfume.
Thank you.
Getting naked is not in their union contract.
Posted by: InsertSnappyNameHere at December 1, 2009 12:22 PM
If it weren’t for union rules, this country would be as competitive as China.
Biff, it’s not “stripper-like glitter”…the Official Brownstoner Hookers are not “strippers.” They do it with their clothes on. Getting naked is not in their union contract.
“Great, every married man’s joy; coming home to a wife with stripper-like glitter all over him.”
So long as you don’t smell like “drug store” perfume you’re fine Biff.