A bleak day for fowl

I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving. It is not a big holiday for my family--none of us particularly like turkey (although I am quite fond of stuffing), my sister goes down to Atlanta for a week of in-law duty, and I have no desire to watch football or shop on Black Friday.

However, some friends and I had a little second thanksgiving potluck this weekend and my friend Aaron (who makes some of the best meatballs in the world AND dressed up last year as an easter bunny--yes, on easter--to hand out treats to the kiddies), told us by far the worst Thanksgiving experience ever:

One year during college, Aaron had been dating this girl. She convinced him to spend Thankgiving with her family, saying that they always go out to this "really nice restaurant." Aaron goes. That "really nice restaurant" was one of those Old Country Buffet type places (but better than a Sizzler). Her family thought it was the best thing. Aaron was not impressed.

But it gets better.

Girlfriend's Grandpa is there and he's old and probably sick--but still eating away at the buffet (it's Thanksgiving and all). In the middle of Thanksgiving meal, Grandpa dies. Yes, you heard me, he dies. The details weren't clear, but he was definitely dead. They had to come with a gurney and take Grandpa's body out of the restaurant. Aaron attempted to get the hell out of there, but the girlfriend wanted him to stay and be with her during these difficult times.

Hands down the suckiest Thanksgiving, right?

And no, he's no longer dating the girl. But he did get that famous meatball recipe of his from her mom...

Gobble gobble.