Riley: “What ever happened to our traditions? I demand turkey and pie and football and gluttony.”
Andy: “Do you think you could give me your butternut squash pie recipe?”
Patrick: “Are we cancelling the pub crawl, too?”
Sam: “Since when did you become such a fan of traveling, Shannon?”
Riley: “We could go to Gigi’s family’s dinner. They have plenty of room and they aren’t assholes who change plans at the last minute.”
Andy: “I’ll handle the pub crawl. It’s not like Shannon’s the only one who can pick out a couple bars.”
Patrick: “Let’s be reasonable: it’s not like we were having Thanksgiving at Shannon’s place forever. We’re not kids anymore. She’s the only one who can manage a tradition.”
Sam: “Wait.Gigi? As in Roof Garden Girl, Gigi? Magnolia, Gigi?”
Matt: “Shannon’s blown us off two years in a row. We can’t really call it a tradition anymore. More like abandonment.”
Andy: “Everyone can come to us. We’ll find the space.”
Riley: “Yeah, Gigi’s my bro. My homeboy.”
Sam: “I’m suddenly thrilled to be spending the holiday in suburban New Jersey.”
Matt: “Erin’s in Iceland. Or Greenland. Wherever the volcanoes are, but it’s relatively quick flight. I could probably convince her to fly in for the weekend.”
Riley: “Nick will enjoy that.”
Patrick: “Shannon has the best space for it, but it was fine at Matt’s last year. Or the fire house.”
Matt: “Why wouldNickenjoy Erin flying in for the weekend?”
Sam: “That would not be my assessment of Gigi.”
Riley: “Don’t leave the good doctor unsupervised unless you have a shotgun handy.”
Andy: “Tell me we are not still talking about Roof Garden Girl. I’m obligated to cut a bitch after what she did to Tiel.”
Matt: “We’ll do it. We have the space.”
Riley: “Gigi is good people. Good people make mistakes. Let it go.”
Patrick: “Motherfuck, how are we still talking about roof gardens?”
Riley: “Are we having Spanish food again? That feels like a real Throwback Thursday, and throwing all the way back to the Spanish monarchy. I like that shit.”
Patrick: “We could get Korean barbeque. There’s a little place that Andy and I love—”
Sam: “Stop it with the Korean barbeque. You’re being ridiculous. Nobody eats kimchi on Thanksgiving.”
Matt: “Someone tell me what we’re doing so I can text my wife.”
Patrick: “That seems like a generalization I’m not willing to make. Korean barbeque is better than turkey, hands down.”
Riley: “I think I have a migraine now. A belly ache, too.”
I set my coffee cup on the table and whistled for their attention. “All right. Listen. Patrick’s ordering the meal. Matt and Lauren are hosting. Andy is handling the Black Friday pub crawl. Sam is going to stop being a mouthy bitch right now. Riley isn’t dicking around with Roof Garden Girl because weallagreed to break up with her after she molested Sam. And I’m turning off my phone and going to California next Wednesday morning. Despite my travels, your delicate, tender lives will go on without incident, and you will realize that tradition has nothing to do with where your mashed potatoes are served. If anyone has any problems with any of that, I have a giant bag of old dicks rotting in my office, and you’re welcome to juggle them until you get the fuck over it. Any questions?”
Matt raised his hand, and I definitely growled at him. “Can someone clarify why I should be watching Nick? And why I’d need a shotgun for that?”
