The four of us took our place and waited for what felt like an hour, but upon checking my watch, was closer to six minutes. It was easily 1,000 feet long, two to three people abreast. Technically, we couldn’t actually see where it began because it meandered around not one but two corners and kept going to the vanishing point. I should clarify: we found the END of the line. We eventually found the line for the buffet. I watched dumbfounded as this sea of humanity chose to spend their Thanksgiving sitting in front of slot machines, apparently in search of the fastest possible way to burn through their paychecks. Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but nothing says Thanksgiving like playing the Beyoncé-dollar slots. I was surprised to see hundreds of people playing the slot machines.

I gave my keys to the valet and we headed inside the casino. We arrived at what we thought was a reasonable hour: 1:00 p.m. The restaurant did not take reservations. The plan was to enjoy the special Thanksgiving Day All-You-Can-Eat buffet at the Tulalip Casino. Strangely, my wife questioned my thinking: “Excuse me? You declined? What’s wrong with you? “So, you would rather eat genetically mutated turkey bits and plastic peas than join our friends for the real thing? Call him back and tell him YES, you idiot.” Technically, she didn’t actually say “you idiot.” But I’m fairly certain she was thinking it. I had already made exciting plans to prepare Michele a home-cooked meal of microwaved turkey pot pies with peas, accompanied by Uncle Ben’s rice pilaf. Of course, I had to decline this generous offer. Then the day before Thanksgiving, we received an invitation from two friends whom I will call “Dave” and “Susan” (out of respect for Terry’s and Sharon’s privacy), to join them dining out for Thanksgiving. We will cherish their texts from Florida. Where were our daughters? I guess, being adults and having their own incomes inspired them to make other plans. But for the first time in our 31 years of marriage, we’d be quietly celebrating alone, just the two of us – and our cats. Not even close.Įvery year for as far back as I can remember, we’ve had company for Thanksgiving. But this year, our Thanksgiving was nothing like this scene. Ah, a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, where the wife does all the work and the husband just carves the bird, then watches football.

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