If you’re eating Thanksgiving diner alone, chances are you have fucked up somewhere in your life so royally that even on a day where the worst of families find the willful ability to come together, you are still all alone. Good job, slick.
As someone who has spent many a Thanksgiving in forced solitude, knuckle deep in salty tears and heartbreaking memories, there’s still those patented hunger pangs that come in the midst of all that emotional trauma, the caustic realization that meat’s meat and a man’s gotta eat, even if there’ll be no turkey at your table this year. At least not a homemade one.