the bloating never diminishes.

It’s finally the Holiday Season. Time for excessive repeat plays of Real Estate, drunkenly hugging the Christmas Trees on Hudson Street, and finding the Holiday magic in Walgreens with its 80 cent packs of expired Candy Corn.

Meanwhile, the rest of Manhattan’s loading up with projected displays on 5th Avenue and overpriced Christmas Markets with shops selling recyclable wooden neck ties. It’s nearly nauseating. Give me the bourbon and the huggable Christmas trees; I once almost broke up with my ex because he had taken me to see the Radio City Rockettes. To him, the 3D Santa Projections and the Choruses decked out with Macy’s Bags were what Christmas was all about. After the show, I had insisted that we go home and skip out on the Santa’s Workshop Display at Lord and Taylor. We argued for a bit and I set off to my apartment alone. I’m unsure where he went on his own. I’m assuming (mostly hoping) he went somewhere arbitrarily sentimental, like a Christmas Shoppe in Union Square for a spot of hot Apple Cider and crumbling Gingerbread, as if the spirit of Christmas was going to set him right and true. I watched Harry Potter 5 with a couple of Heinekens and myself for company. Considering I didn’t have a legal license or know any better in regards to the Heineken, it was a Christmas Miracle.

But to me, there’s a bit of leftover Thanksgiving Holiday that had to be experienced and endured. There’s the first hints of a ball-numbing Winter, the sales at Brooklyn Industries that drop the price of organically-made cardigans by five dollars, and of course, the Thanksgiving Croissant at Momofuku Milk Bar on 2nd Avenue and 13th Street.

Its savory, buttery, thyme roll was loaded with moist turkey and stingy, tart, cranberry relish. With a Stumptown Americano and the glorious Kimchi slaw served on the side, the whole dinner combo costs about $7. For a Thanksgiving meal, the taste of it all is all rather untraditional, and at times I found myself playing with an imbalance of turkey and cranberry and dinner roll all at the same time. To that same effect, I suppose the same could be said about a plate of Thanksgiving dinner, when all you have are bites of side dishes and you’re left with nothing to do but mix it all together and squeeze it onto your fork for one final bit. Still though, the warmth of it all was comforting and beyond satisfactory.

After dinner, I found myself walking through the Union Square Christmas Market. The Wooden Tie Guy was putting away his displays. The Apple Cider Vendors were unplugging their thermoses. In a single moment, the christmas lights that were intertwined with silver garland and faux holly turned off, and the market was left in darkness. Playtime was over, but Kimchi Slaw and a stop at the Momofuku Milk Bar would always be forever.



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