Wild goose chase for a turkey

Let me declare that I am no Scrooge and neither am I without perspective on Jesus and the reason for this season. Jesus, the experts say, was born in a summer month (for us of course it would have been the August holidays) but by now it is too late to change our celebration — an idea akin to that of the cancellation of Carnival. And even if they tried, we in Trinidad and Tobago would immediately begin to lobby for the Protest Headquarters of the Hemisphere to be set up here, proclaiming ourselves to be the Gateway to restoring Jerusalem and the hope for Israel. So, you must know that I have the dubious honour of sharing the birthday of JC (yeah, we cool) and that has brought with it sufficient emotional struggles for me to want to postpone Christmas — my reason being that I would like to have some time for my birthday! For years I harboured bad attitudes towards people who feel they have to “smell de paint” and those who think curtains have a window life with an expiry date.

I never understood those who charged everything and take everything else on hire purchase, somehow imagining that money will appear with the New Year. I do not court a certain furniture store because of ‘nuff bad experience, but I have felt no remorse when they appeared in January to repossess. Revelations! I am told that some ingenious people alter the size of their doorways delimiting the bailiff’s attempts to recover furniture when the only option is to break down their wall for which they will have to be compensated! So then the standard procedure is that stores just have to weigh the cost and wait for the money. You may not know this, but people do not relocate in November, December and February. I learnt that the best time to look for an apartment in the newspapers is around January 15, just about the time that the landlord gives up on waiting for the rent for December, realising that even if he got it he had no way to recover January’s and that February’s Carnival costume would definitely put him in more jeopardy. As a reluctant “Christmas child” there are a few more issues with which I wrestle. I have had to deal with single parenting and not having money for Christmas cheer. I found out on January 19 one year that I had not seen my boyfriend because on Christmas morning (some 25 days before) I had said something that offended him! I found out another time, on Christmas Eve that my Christmas Day engagement was called off!

Let me tell you something, if you were born on Christmas Day you would definitely have to be as strong and courageous as I am! This Christmas birthday thing is not for the faint hearted. No madam! So I have always chosen in the past not to be tired on Christmas Day and, consequently I do not paint, I do not shop, I do not change curtains, my house goes through its regular cleaning and sundry other simple things in silent protest for my own birthday. So imagine last week, after all of that, being asked by a friend to accompany her to the West to buy a turkey at this all-time smart price of $165. We arrived at 6.30 pm and the first thing that occurred to us was that the place looked deadbeat. Then as we approached the freezer, which now displayed French fries and beef patties, I knew we should have turned then and not half hour later after we had grudgingly inspected what appeared to be “before Christmas left over” meat. I suggested we go to this place in the East where the floors are a tad bit too dirty but they are masters at keeping their shelves filled with good stuff at great prices. She suggested we go to the other branch. I suggested she call them first! So we went to Grand Bazaar and thought that there must be some place to get this bird. Nothing doing. She called and confirmed that we could get turkey in Chaguanas, and I, the silly goose that I am, followed her there only to be told after about 20 minutes of seeking that the birds all flew out about three days ago.

I was livid, so I asked where I could file a complaint since we had called the office and on their information we drove from Port-of-Spain to Chaguanas. I was sent to a counter where I had to line up behind about 15 people to complain! So, off we went to the other side of the highway and there never had an opportunity to put any food in our basket, but happened to spend another 45 minutes in an impassable jam. So after three hours we went to the store in the East — you know the one I thought we could have gone to earlier? And voila! Turkey at last! I could not imagine that I had been caught in this mad and maddening web of folly over a stupid bird! So I graciously said to the woman, “You must really like Christmas!” and she declared with aplomb: “No! I like turkey!”