A Bird for a Bennie

I took almost the whole day off from work today because I was the only one in the family who still had enough time off from work this year to drive into the country to pick up the turkey. One of the bennies in my contract for employment is that I get thirty-six hours of personal time every calendar year, regardless of whether I was hired on January 1st, or on September 27th. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see that bennie go away soon.

But I had to use it up before the end of the year, because it doesn’t carry over, so I asked for lots of time off around the holidays. We’re all being furloughed the day after Thanksgiving (gosh, thanks!), so I asked to have the day before Thanksgiving off, to take advantage of the long weekend. Then, when B asked me last week to see if I could take time off on Tuesday, I asked for the whole afternoon, because why not? If it’s going to be a long weekend anyway, might as well get started as early as possible.

Although I was able to get all the days off that I wanted, I still had one hour of personal time left over after the dust settled. After I put in my request to take this afternoon off, my boss suggested I burn an hour off the end of the morning with that last personal hour. Well, okay … twist my arm!

I drove across town and out to the farm right after I left work, to make sure I wouldn’t forget. Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s not only possible, it’s very likely. When I got there, the woman I found waiting at the back of the refrigerator truck wasn’t the farmer we ordered the turkey from. Worse than that, I’d never seen her before. “You’re here to pick up your turkey?” she asked.

“Yes?” I answered.

“What size?” she prompted me.

“I was afraid you were going to ask me that,” I told her. “I don’t know. Don’t you have them by name?” She just laughed at that. Apparently, they don’t name their turkeys. I wouldn’t, either. Makes it harder to wring their necks. Har.

But just then, Carrie showed up with a clipboard and a long list of names. She crossed mine off her list and told the gal in the truck to hand me a sixteen-pounder. Saved! I don’t have to go home looking stupid! I love these guys.

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