Just I had anticipated, I missed nothing by not going back to my hometown for Thanksgiving Eve. My night in Queens was uneventful and the world still existed the following day, Turkeys and all.
Bell Blvd. on Thanksgiving Eve was sure to be packed, so we made it out early. The bar was charging a cover, the first time ever since I’ve been going there, but it was only $5. My friends and I stuck to our own insulated group for most of the evening and I couldn’t have been happier.
Some friends from Grad School stopped by, but they’re both pretty low key people and they managed to both let me be and lighten my mood at the same time. There’s something special about people you can see out and not have to spend the whole night with, I find friends like that to be a comfort.
So the night passed by and began to blur as we all melded into a similar satisfied stupor. The funniest part of the night was probably the 21 year-old who tried to convince me that “5 years isn’t that much of an age difference.” Sorry kiddo, I’ve heard that one before. Besides, as most people who heard this story pointed out, if he’s claiming 21 then he’s probably 18 and I definitely don’t need to get involved with that.
Younger boys seem to be my latest recurring problem and, while this is a serious improvement from the total jerk boys that seemed to seek me out months ago, I’m tired of feeling the need to ID a guy just to let him chat me up. It may be time to rethink my game plan, but if that’s the extent of my Thanksgiving Eve drama this year, then I’m doing okay.