The Frugal Repast or Thanksgiving dinner at McDonalds, almost.

OK, so here we are on the road on Thanksgiving Day. We are among the few weary travelers moving down the highways. The border was quiet, and the guard asked me where we were going. "New Jersey", I said. He looked at his watch and asked why, we said, "Thanksgiving dinner". He questioned what time dinner was. I exclaimed that it was served whenever we arrived.

Off into the New York countryside, across the Thurway. As a toll road, it has a 365 days 24/7 open policy. For money you get honey (said my Aunt Ida) and if you pay a toll, you get food and gas. However, at some point we leave the highway and move on toward our destination. At around 1:30 p.m. we decide to get gas and lunch. We stop at McDonalds to get lunch and laugh about the sad little Thanksgiving lunch we are about to receive when lo and behold, McDonalds is closed! How dare they do this?

Off to the next big town, where we know they have lots of services and lo and behold, the whole damn town seems closed! It’s like a horror movie, the buildings are there but the people have gone?

No McDonalds, no Taco Bell, no Arby’s, all closed. The Tim Horton’s was open, and even though we had a breakfast there, we gave in. But, the toilet was backed up with people and feces, and that ended that mission. The girls found a Ma and Pa restaurant next door and they were about to close, but they let them use the bathroom. Tim Horton’s, by the way, had a bus arrive with a million people so it was off limits as well.

We went to the Subway and I waited in line for the one bathroom. The kid in front of me finished, and shut the door with the lock on so I had to get help from disgruntled Subway workers after I told them I would pee in their aisles or break their door handle.

On my way out with our carry out sandwiches, chips and pop, I looked carefully at the people sitting around eating what could have been Thanksgiving dinner at Subway. They were all of the ethnic varieties, of some East Asian ethnicity and clearly unhappy about everything in their lives. At least about sitting there eating lunch in this place.

It was a difficult eat, driving down a wet highway with a 6” sandwich dripping lettuce leaves down my puffy coat, trying to be thankful about anything.

We eventually arrived in Mendham, NJ by 5:40 p.m. in a foggy, wet and cold evening happy to be over the 9 ½ hour ordeal. The traditional 2 martini pre-dinner slurp warmed my heart and the turkey, etc. was great.

So, Happy Thanksgiving America from your wayward son!