Fowl Holiday

I think my tone was a little on the harsh side—she looked offended. After raising her eyebrows and turning that smile upside-down, she pointed to the dressing rooms at the end of the aisle and walked away. I have never had chatty friends, I couldn’t handle it. I would turn into a strangler. The headlines would read: Strangler Strikes Again! Young, pretty, blonde Amanda, employee at the local Wal-Mart, strangled and left for dead in the bra and underwear aisle! I’m sorry. I just don’t have patience for idle chit-chat with people I don’t know.

Driving home from the store, I thought back to the phone call I had with my mom when I told her Aunt Emma had invited me to go to Fiji for Thanksgiving. I didn’t tell my mom how I had complained that nobody wanted to spend time with me anymore. My mom said that this adventure would be a great experience for me. “A chance to meet new people. A chance to see the world. You could learn to snorkel and swim with the sea turtles. Maybe even meet a man.” Yes, a man. I'm twenty-two years old and my last relationship with a “man” was more than a year ago. It was quite serious, at least I thought it was, but after two years of dating he threw his shit in a duffle bag, told me I was a boring hermit crab (aren’t all hermit crabs boring?), kicked my cat George, and walked out the door.