It recently came to my attention that the owner of T & N Wine, a fabulously cranky man named Chris, has rolled out a real doozy of a Thanksgiving display. Among the items employed are eighteen artfully placed bottles of Wild Turkey 101 (any less proof would be an insult to the Garden Spot of the Universe) and one very real— and anatomically correct— turkey.
I have written about this already. Yet none of my readers seems to have noticed this curiously (and, it should be noted, prodigiously) endowed fowl. No worries, the local population has. This display has literally stopped passersby in mid-stride. I learned this earlier today— noon, to be exact— when I was out running errands.
A 40-something gentleman exits T & N after making his lunch-time acquisition of spirits (vodka as best as I could tell— every hour is happy hour on Manhattan Avenue). He stops, looks at the window and laughs. LOUDLY.
Me: Nice, eh?
Man: Yes, very nice.
Me: As you can see that turkey is a male.
Man: It is?
Me: Yeah, look at it.
Man (looks, a puzzled expression clouds his face): How do you know it is male?
Me: Look closer at the turkey.
Man: ???
Me (getting exasperated): LOOK AT IT’S CROTCH— or what’s left of it, anyway.
Man (looks closer): AHAHAHAHAHA! Very funny.
Me: I told you that turkey is, uh was, a male.
Man: You are a very nice lady. Would you like to go for a drink… or a cup of coffee?
Me: It’s nice of you to offer but I have to be somewhere. Soon.
Man: You are a very nice lady. STAY THAT WAY! (wanders off laughing to himself)
The End.
Miss Heather
I am so glad you posted this, I managed to get a pic for myself on Thanksgiving