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It's Me, Survivor of my Friendsgiving Turned Thanksgiving Brawl

Never challenge your friends to an arm wrestling contest at the Friendsgiving dinner table. Especially if the two of them have a poison in their eyes they didn’t have until they simultaneously noticed they were both in the room. What was supposed to be a playful dare turned dark real quick.

When you host a party, what they don’t teach you are basic human survival skills should things turn feral. I was prepared for a quaint, adult evening given the charcuterie board we all contributed to. It was that night I discovered that a charcuterie board can become a weapon. Before we knew it, all of our lives were threatened at the expense of past beef we did not know Todd and Alex had. Those little cheese knives can cut… Todd’s finger got grazed, and all because he and Alex dated the same person without realizing it six months ago. I wonder how many brain cells they lost in the process.

person holding a charcuterie board

While everyone was expected to bring drinks, our concernedly single friend Greg only served backhanded compliments to the couples there because “everyone was thinking it anyway.” Sara ganged up on Helen about why she was the one who sat in the middle of the backseat for their entire ride up, only to get cranberry sauce thrown into her face. Not at, into.

Fast forward and the mashed potatoes were thrown higher than gravity should allow- a flying turkey leg nearly decapitated my neighbor who showed up for the first time under the assumption that my friends were “really chill people.”

To think we were going to light candles. Hell, I even laid out my fall-themed table runner at the mercy of red wine stains, but it made no difference. Instead, it gave Todd a cool way to showcase his anger when he pulled it from under, nearly tripping everyone and squealing “I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS!” Things de-escalated when everyone attempted to fist fight each other, but no one was good enough at it and it became embarrassing to watch.

I haven’t had time to process this occurrence, since most of the putrid anger in my eyes hasn’t left and I locked myself in the bathroom for the last half hour. I feel slighted, disappointed, and have just received notice that there will be no second date with my neighbor à la “had an interesting time but I don’t think I can move forward knowing what I now know.”

And now there's me. Friendsgiving turned Thanksgiving brawl survivor. I never thought this would be my story.

And ... I am no longer thankful for my friend group.

Copyright © 2023 Oona O'Brien. All rights reserved.


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