Giver!

PostSecret

Not a peep was heard from my family on Thanksgiving. The phone didn't ring, and since the phone company has restricted my line from making long distance calls I couldn't reach out to touch anyone. The dinner hour approached and the house was too quiet. So I decided to go to an environment where I could feel truly thankful, a bar. Not just any bar of course. In times such as these, the proper establishment must be chosen wisely. It must be in a rough part of town, open early, have a hotel or rooming house above it and a cigarette machine close to the washroom. It must serve draft in those shapely little glasses, it should have red carpet with years of gum pressed into it, have an overweight bouncer wearing a black leather vest sitting by the door, preferably be populated by no one under 45, and most importantly, no music should be played.

Dressed down for the occasion I took up residence at a hotel bar within walking distance, old, and not too far from the train station just incase I should get drunk enough to muster the courage to leave town and never come back. Alone I sat drinking on the opening of the holiday season as the year began to drag its knuckles to a certain scheduled death. By the third beer the liquor began to do its job, and I started to have romantic thoughts of sniffing perfumed necks, showing up here or there, calling, buzzing, anything, but realized soon enough, really, I was welcome nowhere. Except in the place I found myself in, where I could sit quietly looking out the window at the train station outside. I was brought out of my meditative trance by an inquiry across the room from an older chap sitting with two other fellows and a woman just on the other side of the room. Why was a nice looking young fellow sitting by himself on Thanksgiving? His lady friend wanted to know, but he was asking. I answered that I had just gotten into town, and was waiting for another train. I didn't want to tell them the truth, that really, I was just bored, and had nowhere else to go. They told me to come over and sit with them. We were the only ones in the bar, and it was suggested that we should have our own party. I said sure, and pulled up a chair. The fellow that did most of the talking was named Teddy, he lived in the hotel upstairs. His girlfriend looked about 10 years younger than him, but had seen better days, so really it was hard to tell how old she was, her name was Catherine. I was never introduced Teddy's other friends, I am not even sure if he knew who they were, maybe he had just met them, like me. They were drunk, and didn't say much.

Teddy was a talker, which was good, the rest of us weren't. He used to drive a bus in New York and entertained us with stories about the routes he would drive in Queens, Manhattan, and the Bronx. How he used to drive the route to Rikers Island Prison, how he drove like a madman and had 11 accidents on his record. He was telling us about a stabbing that took place on his bus one morning when he stopped to look at his watch. It was time for dinner. Teddy told us all that we should have the free dinner together being offered at the mission at the top of the street. I told him, Catherine, and the other silent gents that I had no business eating a free dinner for the needy when there were so many others that would benefit from such a charity. Teddy told me that was nonsense, and that I should come along. I had 2$ in my pocket, and only canned soup at home, and I wanted some company. Surely that was the intention of the god loving volunteers serving turkey up the street.

I was drunk, and astounded at where I found myself on this wet night. How I could go from partying with movie stars one week, to waiting in line for a free turkey dinner on Thanksgiving in the dirtiest part of town the next I cannot tell you dearest reader, but I was there, and I felt justified in taking a place in the lineup amongst the cities lost and downtrodden. The meal wasn't the best, but I have most certainly had worse. Sitting at the end of a long table with Teddy and Catherine, we poured some wine into our plastic water cups from a bottle that Catherine had in her purse. I ate quickly. I told them how I was waiting for a train, that I was going back to my family, and that I hadn't seen them in years. They would be waiting for me when I arrived. That I had to get going or I would miss my train. I shook their hands, thanked them for their hospitality, and walked home.