Turkey on White
Bob and his brother were truck drivers, so they were not home much. They lived with their mom, Bob’s girlfriend, and Bob’s son. The latter we called Weird Al because he had very curly hair that he let grow long. We thought that was funny because no one else did it. We also thought he was just sort of weird. He also had very thick glasses. We used to buy pot from Weird Al..................
One thanksgiving after all the Turkey was eaten and all that, me and David got together and called Wired Al so we could buy some pot. He told us to come over. When we got there, he invited us into his house, which he never did before. The air was suffocatingly thick with weed and cigarette smoke. We were introduced to everyone; Bob, his brother Tom, Sara their mother (Weird Al’s Grandma) and Amber Bob’s GF. Dave and I took a seat on the couch after a round of handshakes and Al brought us beers. The whole family sat stoned watching the Dallas Cowboys and passed around multiple joints. I gathered from the conversation that Bob had just gotten home a few hours ago from a long run. Between puffs on the joint he was eating a triple layer sandwich with processed Turkey cold-cuts, processed cheese slices, white onions, and lots of mayonnaise. The mayonnaise kept squishing out the back of the sandwich and dripping down his forearm. His gums were bleeding, which left the bitten part outline with deep red. He was talking about how glad he was to be off the road:.........................
“Don’t get me wrong I’m glad to have a job, but it’s damn nice to be home. Home sweet home!. (Chomp). Boy this here is one damn good Turkey Sandwich. Damn good. I guess we should have said grace first. Well, I was too damn hungry to pray. (Chomp, Chomp). Why don’t we all go around the room and say what we are thankful for. I know what I’m thankful for, a fine woman, a job, a good truck, and by God the Cowboys are wining! I’m fucking thankful glad I live in America, where a man is free to work and eat good food, like this here Turkey Sandwich, which I can enjoy any time. Plenty of Turkey Sandwiches and Hellman’s mayo in the U.S.A .”..............................
The sandwich was by now a thin slice of white pasty bread stained red with his gum blood. Below him on the paper plate was a large glop of mayo. He leaned to pass me the joint which I thankfully took. God bless the U.S.A. I thought.
