Some people are so hungry during the Thanksgiving-to-Christmas season that, after the traditional holiday meals, they can’t help but slip off to nibble on a thigh or breast. Others just flop on a couch. Here are some full stories:
JESSY, 19, WESTBURY On Thanksgiving last year, my cousin and her boyfriend disappeared for a little bit. We were at her parents’ house. I said, “Where is this girl?” A bunch of us were there, at least 20. I had three or four of my favorites, so I was down there for an hour, an hour and a half. I just noticed that she disappeared. So I went upstairs. I was going to see what the hell she was doing. She was in there with her boyfriend, and she had hickeys on her neck. They weren’t small. I think she did it to annoy her father—because afterwards she had her hair up. I was like, “Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Her father just looked at her. He didn’t say much. You could tell he was mad, though.
ALEX, 18, LAWRENCE It was during Christmas, after dinner. Around midnight, after we opened our presents, everybody was jolly, drunk and playful. My cousin had brought his girlfriend home. All of a sudden, you see his girlfriend’s not around and his brother’s not around. We didn’t pay no mind because it was his brother. My uncle—alcoholic that he was—stumbled upstairs. He found his brother and his girlfriend in bed. He said, “Everybody, come upstairs.” My cousin pulled his brother out of bed. He was beating him up all the way down the stairs. It took four of the grown men to hold him down from whipping his girlfriend’s butt. The neighbors saw everything—a whole bunch of people crowding around. The cops came. They had to escort my naked cousin out. They just took him to his house. I was like, why is my cousin naked and why is his brother beating him up? I kind of figured it out after. Everybody just went to bed from there. The weird part about it is he’s still with his girlfriend. They don’t talk at all. They say it’s squashed, but you feel the tension when both guys are in the same room.
DEE, 30, MANHATTAN If I invite my family over to have Thanksgiving dinner, they can shock my roommate’s family. It always ends up on sex. I have no idea how it starts. Either somebody tells a joke or makes a comment. I know my father never starts the conversation, because he never participates. He eats his dinner, but he’ll laugh if something is funny. My mother gives my brothers advice on how to go down on a girl. I was very uncomfortable. That was funny in an awkward way, but we were laughing. My mother is very candid with my brothers, more open than most American families. That’s what Sundays are for, also. We talk about each other’s lives. My mother’s clueless; I’m the “virgin.” I’m the 30-year-old virgin. I think my father knows. He won’t say anything. But now, I don’t have anybody in my life. Neither does one of my brothers. And the other, we know he and his girlfriend have sex like jackrabbits every week. That’s old news.
BARBARA, 30, NORTHPORT Both my boyfriend and I have always respected our parents’ houses. I’m totally afraid. If my mother busted me, she’d, like, sew my vagina together. She’s a fuckin’ loud Dominican. I went on a ski trip and she took me to the doctor afterwards to see if I was still a virgin. Once, we were all having a Thanksgiving dinner and dessert—pumpkin pie, apple pie, flan—and my cousin and his wife started watching a game or something. She had on a mini-skirt and a tank top. Not even biker-y, just white trash kind of thing. Very ’70s. She looked like a dancer, like a stripper. We just looked at each other and laughed. My mother called her a whore. Everybody else wore normal clothes, very preppy. You get dressed up like you’re going to church when you eat with them.
Anyway, they disappeared. My mother wondered where they were. She started searching the house. She went downstairs to the guest room. When she opened the door—this is funny because all of us were behind her—his ass was in the air. My mom screamed. They froze and she smacked him in the back of the head. She slammed the door. She was just cursing in Spanish. She’s very blunt, my mom, extremely blunt. “You don’t fuck under my roof. That’s disrespectful!” She was just devastated. What was she going to tell us? She did so much yellin’ for a freakin’ half an hour. They got dressed, and I think they stayed for a half an hour and left. They have never been back to the house on Thanksgiving. That’s like the joke now.
CHAD, 27, LONG BEACH Actually, I threw my ex-girlfriend out once on Thanksgiving. I was insane. She and my brother were making me miserable. They wanted to make this whole big holiday feast in my house. They wouldn’t let me smoke my fucking goddamn cigarettes. I think they were two miserable people sucking the energy out of a nice person. I was on the road to becoming my own person and realizing I not only hated them, I hated Thanksgiving. And I hated everybody. I threw them out before the meal was ready. I wound up recanting because my brother was saying, “That’s fucked up.” Torturing my girlfriend was fun while it lasted—I was dating a ball-buster and my mother (who’s also a ball-buster) told me I was wrong. Now that they’re no longer in my life, I’m happy. The following year, my girlfriend came over and fucked me. The following year I did the same thing. Very peaceful. Put that as my advice: Get rid of your family and your obnoxious friends who you can’t stand. I wish they were dead. Life is so much better without bossy, obnoxious women who think just because they fuck you they have the right to make you miserable in the name of a “special occasion.” All those guys out there who are going to read that are going to be like, “Yeah.”