Once upon a time, 2 non-domestic goddesses who were living in NYC decided to invite some friends over for a pre-Thanksgiving feast. We would supply the turkey and everyone would bring a dish. This was not an extremely classy affair. In fact one friend was excited to bring her family's favorite stuffing and we explained that no, we would prefer Stovetop please. And the Thanksgiving feast was to be served on a blanket in the middle of our living room which could fit no more than the 10 people we were having over and the food.
As we set out to prepare for our day there were two heinous chores that needed to be accomplished. 1) We had to clean the bathroom and 2) We had to prepare and cook the turkey. I'm pretty sure we figured out who would do what by utilizing the classic decision making tool: Rock Paper Scissors. I ended up with the turkey. As I entered our spacious kitchen (it could hold two people if they went on a diet and sucked in their breath), I heard gagging coming out of the bathroom. Wimp, I thought. And then I realized that turkeys have their "parts" stuffed in a bag inside their carcasses and that the cook was expected to put their arm inside the turkey and pull this bag out. I reached in...and the gagging was now harmonized, coming from both rooms.
Honeslty, I cannot remember much about the actual party. I don't remember everyone who attended. I cannot remember what else we ate. I think the turkey came out okay. I do remember my friend with the stuffing brought both the family recipe and Stove Top. I don't remember how either tasted. I remember that clean up was tough because our counter space equated to 2 square feet. I put the turkey in the oven to get it out of the way and we finished cleaning up. A successful day (at least I think it was).
Cut to February (yes, this is still my Thanksgiving story). I am out of town. My roommate tells a little story about an unpleasant odor in the apartment...perhaps an unholy stench. She and her boyfriend thought a mouse died behind the stove. What they actually found was a 3 month old turkey carcass in the oven. But how did we cook those 3 months you ask? Did you know that Dominos delivers and that there are approximately 2 Chinese restaurant on every city block in Manhattan? We did not cook. We might have made Oodles of Noodles or Mac n Cheese on the cook top, but that was the extent of our cooking. Well, it was a snowy cold day and they weren't feeling the desire to walk down the 3 flights into the cold with a rancid carcass in the bag. So they decided to put the bag on the ledge outside the living room window until there was a more opportune time to bring it down. It never even struck me that I should bring it downstairs after I returned from my trip (until right now). I mean finders keepers, right? Months later, a bird eventually built its nest on top of it and raised her babies (ah, the cycle of life). I moved out a while later, and my roommate moved out a year after that. At this point the thought of the bag must have been more than she could stomach. With a push, the bag was sent flying over the edge and into the unused courtyard 3 stories below.
This story has become somewhat of a Thanksgiving tradition. Told year after year. I'm not sure if it will be passed down from generation to generation, but I think if it is, Snopes may have to investigate if this was true or just an urban legend. For all I know, that turkey still haunts the residents of East 83rd Street to this day. At the very least, the story will haunt those of you who are vegetarians. You might be gagging in harmony right now.
Happy Thankgiving!!
LOL--what a great story!
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