a soy-based bounty

Years ago, my friend Jim worked at a fitness store. During this time, he was convinced that he had developed a health serum that was sure to keep all illnesses at bay. A co-worker felt a cold coming on and, at Jim's suggestion, she succumbed and tried his antidote. Soon afterwards, she threw up...thus nullifying any healing effects that may have resulted. Airborne hit the market shortly after Jim's failed attempt at developing a healing remedy, and he still holds them responsible for his non-millionaire status...completely ignoring the fact that his formula proved much more effective for promoting vomit rather than preventing illness.

He still keeps in touch with his vomit stricken co-worker and invited me along to her 'Orphan Thanksgiving Dinner'. Her circle of friends, all with family outside of the state, get together each year and celebrate Thanksgiving together. Jim is currently fighting with his older brother and refuses to attend any family function where he will be present. And, because my brother and sister were eating Thanksgiving dinner at their respective in-laws this year and my family was having a post-Thanksgiving dinner the following day, I accepted his invitation.

Once there, I quickly sought out a glass of wine and some appetizers while Jim caught up with old friends. A group of women were stationed near the wine bottles and, while pouring myself a generous portion of merlot, overheard one of them relating a story about her recent participation in a pro-abortion demonstration.

I imagined her to be of the hemp wearing, tree hugging, strict feminist variety and glanced up to see if my assessment was correct. I caught her eye and, appraising me briefly, she said, “Oh, and I suppose that you don't agree that a woman should have a say when it concerns her own body?”
Caught off guard, I stammered, “no, not at all. Tattoos, piercings, babies...hey, if it's your body feel free to run amok. I was just looking for the appetizers. Do you know if there's any of those little hot dog things? I've always loved those.”

She shot me a disgusted look and replied, “us vegans don't usually eat meat, seeing that it's murder and all.”

“It's not really murder,” I explained. “Well, I mean, I guess it is, but it's not like I personally murdered any of the animals in question...I'm just eating them. No sense in letting them go to waste.”

She just sat and glared at me. Clearly, while she felt that animals deserved to live, those sentiments didn't carry over to me. I quickly grabbed my wine and slunk silently away.
After the food had been situated on the dining room table and plates began to be passed around, I found out what vegans substitute for turkey...tofu. Or, to be more exact, a tofu, soy, and chickpea flour mixture, which is how our hostess described the bounty which she set before us. And here I had always thought that the term 'tofurkey' was nothing more than a joke.

Perhaps in response to the look on my face, the guy sitting next to me said, “don't worry, it tastes exactly like turkey. You'd never even guess that it's tofu.”

However, the tofu, soy, and chickpea flour turkey ended up tasting exactly as I feared it would...which is to say very un-turkeyish. And I could only conclude that the poor guy had gone so long without eating turkey that the true taste was nothing more than a distant memory.

I sat pushing the tofu turkey around on my plate and employed a 'hide it under the mash potatoes' technique in the attempt to disguise the fact that I had actually eaten very little.
I looked across the table at Jim and found that he was doing the same thing, mixing in his tofu with the wild rice instead of hiding it under the potatoes.

Later, as we were driving home, Jim said, “hey, I'm really sorry about that. I had no idea she was a vegan!”

“Don't worry about it,” I told him, as my stomach rumbled.

A convenience store was coming up as we drove down the road. Jim, apparently having the same thought as myself, pulled into the parking lot. Shortly after, we sat in the car eating our microwaved beef burritos and large soft drinks. We raised our styrofoam cups, toasting a meal that we could finally be thankful for.