New Year New DDR
“New Year’s is weird,” I said.
“You mean Thanksgiving, right?”
She stood next to me at the sink, scrubbing a potato. She’d been at the same one for about ten minutes. I was amazed the skin was still attached.
“What?” I asked. I had just finished peeling an onion. Its acrid scent was already making my eyes water. I put the knife down, not wanting to unleash more fumes.
“Thanksgiving,” she said.
“No, I mean… whatever. When’s Thanksgiving?”
“January 2nd!” she said. “First Thursday of every year.”
“That’s not how that works, but okay,” I said.
“What’s so weird about Thanksgiving?” she asked, ignoring my objections.
I took a moment to reprogram my brain to the “correct” holiday names.
“Thanksgiving,” I said, carefully thinking about ball drops and resolutions instead of mashed potatoes and gravy. “Is weird because there’s nothing special about the day.”
She looked upset at that.
“It’s a day to give thanks and share quality time with the people you care about,” she said.
I held onto my mnemonic system for dear life.
“I mean, why’s Thanksgiving in January? What the hell is a January? Do we need an excuse to gather with good people?” I said.
“Most people get the day off for Thanksgiving,” she said. “Except for doctors, firefighters and whoever does the newscast at Times Square.”
“But like… why do we do it that way? Because it’s easy? Because we always have?”
She brandished the potato. A small bit of water hit my shirt.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Go on.”
“Oh, uh…” she brandished the potato again, resulting in another fleck of water hitting my shirt.
“What the hell is a Thursday?” she demanded.
“What’s–I mean, I–“
Oh.
Oh shit.
“DDR is tonight, isn’t it?”
“Only for those who believe in Thursdays,” she said.
At the Insanity Complex
100 Skate Park Drive
Madison, AL