I wasn't sure which part was the Craigslist analogy--the Eatzi's going out of business part or the post-divorce meltdown part or the tofurkey part. Probably the whole is/was bigger than the sum of the parts. Didn't know Craigslist ran stuff like that--aren't they usually ads offering something--an apt, a house, a date, a job, furniture, tickets, etc.? I didn't know how a "worst holiday story" contest fit into the picture. Maybe an ad requesting people's worst holiday stories and then they pick the best one?
That's an interesting order you chose to list them in--I would think most people would start with their immediate family like parents and siblings and go from there. But it's already so wacky that I would have been more surprised if you listed them in a predictable order than if you didn't. I have no clue who's going to be at ours beyond the ones I already know about--the previously mentioned three year and 9 month old nephews, brother, sister in law, parents, racist jack russell terrier, sister in law's sister and brother in law, childhood friend of brother in law and his family, probably random people off the street at this point. No one I have anything in common with, including parents and brother. Fine--I'll entertain the kids while everyone else gossips about people who are less successful than they are. That's their idea of a good time. --- In [email protected], Eleanor Keyser <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > No, no, my family actually has made me eat Tofurkey. Scary. > > This Thanksgiving the cast is as follows: my aunt who is starting chemo on Monday, her Vietnamese housekeeper, my other aunt who is not-at-all-bitter, my passive-aggressive demented grandmother, my eleven year old boy cousin who's hero is Cartman (from South Park), my vegan sister, my cranky-past-her-bedtime can't-use-the-toilet-on-her-own mother, my seven year old girl cousin who is a perfect Nabokovian nymphet-in-training, and me. Let's see Gene come up with a punchline for that one. > > The good news is, I only have to sit through one Thanksgiving dinner this year, as my Dad is divorced again and living in a group home for the homeless mentally ill in San Jose, CA. He's going to have a much better Thanksgiving than I am. > > James <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: Christ. Please tell me this is something from Best of Craigslist, > and not your real life. > > --- In [email protected], Eleanor Keyser > wrote: > > > > My family is lazy and loves fried Turkey. So we ordered a Cajun > Fried Turkey dinner from Eatzi's for Thanksgiving. A few days ago > they call us, polite and efficient, to confirm the order and let us > know the delivery fee. > > > > Yesterday I came home to a voicemail. It was Elliot, from > Eatzi's. Elliot wanted to let us know that Eatzi's would be unable > to fulfill our Thanksgiving order as the store was closing it's > doors and going out of business as of TOMORROW (that would be today > now). Of course I immediately thought "Buh? WTF dude? Are you > some crazy ex-employee looking for payback?" I call Eatzi's. > > > > No answer. > > > > I click the website. > > > > All links off the homepage had been removed. > > > > Finally I get through to an Eatzi's manager who tells me the > employees were just told about this that morning. Apparently, the > Eatzi's chain executives went all 99.1 HFS on their asses. All but > one Eatzi's across the country were closed, and the corporate office > did not return press calls. WTF EATZI'S? W T F?!?!?!? YOU WANNA > CANCEL CHRISTMAS NEXT???? > > > > You all should know that I loathe Thanksgiving more than I loathe > all of the other loathsome days of my life combined. Every single > one is like having Martha Stewart, on crack, use my skin as the > surface of her latest needlepoint sampler. And now I cannot even > drown my sorrows in fried Cajun Turkey. I fucking hate you > Eatzi's. I really, really do. > > > > PS. I have a feeling this Thanksgiving may be the worst one since > the first post-divorce nuclear melt down, which played a little > something like this: Act I: Five hour car ride from Mom's to > Dad's. Act II: Dad throws frozen turkey into the street at Mom, > who burns rubber back to her lonely singleton Thanksgiving. The > turkey skids into the gutter where it sits moldering for days. (I > never did find out how long it sat there.) Act III: Thanksgiving > at the local Jack in the Box--but not in the warm, posh inside of > the "restaurant," oh no. It was drive-through for us. They get > awfully snobby about grown men crying and chain smoking inside of > those places. Bloody righteous prats. > > > > Oh, by the way, the second worst Thanksgiving involved Tofurkey, > and that's all you need to know about that one. > > > > > > --------------------------------- > > Sponsored Link > > > > Mortgage rates as low as 4.625% - $150,000 loan for $579 a > month. Intro-*Terms > > > > > > > > > Yahoo! Groups Links > > > > > > > > --------------------------------- > Check out the all-new Yahoo! Mail beta - Fire up a more powerful email and get things done faster. >
