The First Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day. Remembering Pilgrims (Puritans) and Indians (Native Americans), Corn (Maize) and Turkey (um... Turkey). A day to celebrate getting fat in remembrance of the barren harvest experienced the first few years the Plymouth Rockstars graced this sweet land.

Often people forget what Thanksgiving is really about. People say, "Its about family getting together." Or, "Its about celebrating the blessings that have transpired in the past year." In my mind, Thanksgiving is really about the fact that these poor souls finally had something to eat.

For my actual celebration (and not the debauchery that occurred the night prior), I found myself explaining this theory to a couple of beautiful Scandinavian women that were kind enough to grace DC and I with their presence for their first Thanksgiving dinner ever. They had come to the restaurant a week prior to watch the sunset from the bar, and this time surprised DC at the front desk as they were heading down to eat. Immediately defining his value by disclosing his intimate knowledge of the menu, he asked if we could join them for the evening. Thirty minutes later, he was off shift and we were sipping cocktails, discussing the true meaning of Thanksgiving.

They defined themselves as "coworkers", but something told me they were way more than that. The one from Norway was working down here, while the Swede was just "on vacation, until January 28". I was shocked that someone could go months on end without having to worry about money, but I was even more intrigued by the possibility that they may be lesbians. The way they called each other honey... the way they traded soups halfway through the course... the way they caressed each other's hair... all signs pointing in the same direction. One thing was for sure - if this was going to happen, it was going to make my diary.

They also had an uncanny knowledge database of classic American cinema. I say "do not pass go, do not collect $200" and the Norwegian knew right away that it was from Ace Ventura 2. DC says "Nay ho lung ga" and its clear to the Swede we are talking about Wayne's World. Awestruck, we watched as they walked away after a great dinner followed by drinks at the bar. Something tells me this will not be the last we see of them.

This is the beauty of living in a place like St. Thomas. At a moment's notice your plans can go from something as mundane as watching Jeopardy to something as exciting as tandem hang gliding. The owner of the hotel, Bob, mentioned to me the next day that he was impressed with DC and I for finding dates the day-of for Thanksgiving dinner. I told him that he should know as well as anyone - that's how things work on the islands.