Persian Thanksgiving: (noun), a glorified mehmooni, under the guise of an American holiday.
When you arrive, there are two social groups:
1) Everyone under 35
2) Everyone important.
There’s a feeling of dread because there’s always a few people you’d rather not see..ever.
In the beginning,on an empty stomach, small talk is hard.
But after some ghormeh sabzi, everyone is BFFs.
Party starts at 2, a.k.a 3:30, a.k.a 5.
So basically you’re fasting.
There’s always some older Persian woman in the food line making small talk with you, while you’re just like..
Even the stretchiest pants in the world can’t prepare you for this feast.
Even when you tell yourself to stop, you realize you can steal some extra Tadig and it’s extra crispy today.
No one actually cares about the Turkey, and that’s kind of sad.
You lose count of how many drinks you’ve had. Persian Tea drinks, that is.
Leaving is the hardest part. As in, it’s physically hard to get up and leave and smile and say “Khodahafez” to everyone.
Just make sure your pants are zipped.
& finally, Happy Thanksgiving.