Uncle Geezer and the Turkey Zone

“Don’t know where we’ll put Albert,” Thelma said when I brought over my folding chairs, “but it won’t be near the liquor cabinet.”

My neighbor was planning seating arrangements for her family’s Thanksgiving dinner. We should all plan so well. The Invasion of Normandy would’ve benefitted from such planning.

“And where to seat Tim and Donna? Divorced after 9 years — and over a kitchen remodel.” She sighed. “Home improvement projects ruin so many marriages.”

Then she brightened. “And we get to meet Lisa’s college boyfriend! He can sit… hmmmm… at the kids’ table.”

I whistled at Lisa’s bravery. Meeting the relatives over a holiday dinner will always be the gold standard in determining relationship longevity, but as a stress-inducer it ranks right up there with diffusing nuclear bombs.

Or perhaps Lisa was as clueless as I was when I dated Hubby. I remember thinking, what better time to let Dad look him over than Thanksgiving?

Clueless.

I paid extra for an organic turkey from the health food market (“Our Turkeys are FRESH! Not Frozen!”) and I persuaded my sister to introduce her boyfriend at dinner, too. And on Thanksgiving Day, I slipped into the Twilight Zone.

Dad: I promised not to run you off like her other boyfriends, heh, heh!
Hubby: I don’t scare easily, sir.
Dad: That’s good, kid, because my Uncle Geezer showed up yesterday. He’s a real character. And, uh, FYI: he brought his girlfriend. She’s only 25. They’re still in bed. I think she’s using him for drug money.

Now, I’m not saying home improvement projects don’t have their place in busting relationships, but the 70-something Geezer was the kind of relative you roll out only when you want to break up with a guy.

I called Sissy for backup. Her boyfriend said she was mad at him and they’d be late. I told him to put her on the phone but the only way he could do it was to press the receiver against the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door because she had locked herself in.

At 2 o’clock, Uncle Geezer and Girlfriend appeared. While Geezer entertained Hubby with his “Flippy Dentures” trick, Girlfriend drank all Dad’s beer.

At 5 pm my sister shouted through the door crack that she wasn’t coming, so I put the turkey on the table and asked Dad to carve. After his first few attempts I realized he’d have better luck carving his bowling ball. My “FRESH! Not Frozen!” turkey was solid ice.

Despite my protests, Dad managed to shave off a piece. Uncle Geezer speared it with his fork and chomped for a good long time before he turned to Dad and said, “This bird ain’t done, Bob.”

In despair, I looked to Hubby, hoping he could do something heroic to distract everyone from the turkey, like throw it out the window or something. To my horror, he picked up a forkful of bloody turkey, put it into his mouth and said, “Mmm, mmm, this is the best turkey I’ve ever eaten!”

Girlfriend pushed her plate away, grabbed a roll and asked for money to buy some smokes. Geezer handed her his wallet and car keys and as she raced out the door, he leaned over to me. “This bird ain’t done, little lady,” he said, “it just ain’t done.”

My sister showed up at 10 pm, about the time the turkey was finally finished, and we sat down again for a second try at it. She wept all through dinner and Geezer tried to make her feel better by telling her that if her boyfriend couldn’t appreciate her sassy fanny then he wasn’t worth all those tears.

Dad chose that moment to tell Geezer his gal was just a gold digger, but Geezer insisted it didn’t matter if she was, since she had such a sassy fanny. Geezer poked his fork in my direction and said I had a sassy fanny, too, even though I couldn’t cook turkey worth a damn. Hubby leapt to his feet and told Geezer he was wrong, sir, that both her fanny AND her turkey were sublime.

That’s when I decided to marry Hubby.

Girlfriend eventually returned after midnight (without Geezer’s car), but Hubby and I’ve been together ever since. And if Lisa’s boyfriend can handle the kids’ table, then he’s a good bet for the long haul, too — as long as he and Lisa don’t plan on doing any home improvement projects together.

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3 Replies to “Uncle Geezer and the Turkey Zone”

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