It’s the Night Before Thanksgiving

by Modern Miss Manners

I’m guessing you’re at your parents’ house right now, milling about, feeling that general sense of malaise everyone does when they’re in a place they no longer belong.

This restlessness will lead you to a place you know you should not go tonight: the hometown bars.

Seeing who got fat and whose life is more depressing than yours is a relatively solid pick-me-up. But then you’ll get drunk. Quickly, because you’ll see too many people who still make you nervous. And you’ll say things you didn’t mean to say to people you probably shouldn’t ever speak to again. You’ll end up furiously making out with that person you always had a crush on but never had the balls to speak to before, who’s now a shadow of whatever you dreamed them to be when you were sixteen. You’ll call your younger sibling to pick you up. You’ll sleep on your parents’ bathroom floor. (All of which makes for a killer story once you’re safely back in the arms of the city, and friends who didn’t know you before you were a “real” person.)

But this year, you’re better than that. This year, you’ll order a whiskey on the rocks and laugh at everything everyone says and give only the vaguest details of your life away. Stand by the bar alone, wait for them to come to you. Wear all black. Go home early.

Now get out there and make everyone you’ve ever met fall desperately in love with you.

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