Today’s agonizing marathon of a wardrobe selection literally bordered on the precipice of pain. An infinitely titantic mound of clothing had materialized for Ari to re-fold, or turn right-side out and re-hang. Just when that laborious dune showed some promise of relief, Ms M piled on another layer of rejection. Arianna Skrzypek is the cousin of our buildings elevator operator.  Being in great need of an American alliance, a proposal for a house keeping position was presented. Ari does not speak a word of English but still manages to answer our phone as well as the door.  Although this language barrier continues to be a source of daily frustration, Ms M places great value on being among the domestic procuring set.

The fruit of this mornings grueling “what not to wear” affair, emerged as a  lovely wool Chanel suit. A classic Audrey Hepburn fitted style with silk lining. Maybe a little too fitted after all the holiday celebrating but still doable. This afternoons lunch will have to be a light salad chaperoned by a sparkling Pellegrino.
Confident with the caliber of her appearance Ms M and I set out to find San Soo Raw. Most likely another excellent North Shore eatery with an eastern influence. The BFF had impeccable taste in both cuisine and couture.

Not knowing what to expect from the new “significant other” in her friends life, (the consequence of being out cold 15 minutes after the first introduction), Ms M was putting her best Blahnik adorned foot forward. She must admit she had deeply missed the BFF and is more then eager to see her. Furthermore she began contemplating following suit of a higher dietary path herself. This sparked by the prospect of being granted a vegan prince for her very own.

San Soo Raw had a bewildering entrance. Once inside the handsomely carved wooden doors you are greeted by what appears to be the shoe display from Goodwill. A puzzlingly copious variety of footwear. Did they really expect her to deposit a pair of $1200 Manolo pumps and walk away? Peaking out the side pocket of her carryall I viewed a tense slightly bowed elfin man making a beeline right for us. This was due to the fact that Ms M. attempted a casual entrance into the main dinning area while still being fully shod. Not able to understand each other, an unpleasant exchange climaxed to a serious attempt at liberating Ms M from her heels.

Righted, brushed off, marginally unhinged and with shoes in hand, Ms M is ultimately obliged. Entering the room she could scarcely comprehend the image before her. One vast dimly lit open space with yards upon yards of fabric. A continuous draping from the ceiling, along the walls to the floor. No windows. Several black lacquered table tops in parallel rows. Each person somehow seated flush with the eating surface but no chairs. From the torso down they just evaporate. Swallowed into the floor by some black hole.
Ugh. How on earth, in that outfit, would she manage to lower herself gracefully enough to slide under and in? First things first, she had to concentrate on locating her noontime dates.

While speculating whether she had arrived at an incorrect location,  her companions nowhere to be found, she was struck by a women who had a whisper of familiarity.  Similar mannerisms of an acquainted nature. This caught her eye but she surely did not know the individual. More of the flea market variety that one finds mulling around Whole Foods or the community garden. Granted pleasing in color, the hair was out of control while at the same time pairing well with a vintage Joplin head scarf, exposed lingerie and crushed red velvet coverup. After giving the space another once over she was mysteriously drawn to that corner of the room. Seriously studying the populous along the way, she became frozen at hearing the unmistakable BFF laugh.

Shocked into recognition Ms M is dumfounded. What was her dear friend thinking getting dressed in that costume? What happened to her beautifully styled Victoria Beckham bob? Why, out of all the places for fine dinning in this fabulous city did she pick THIS RESTAURANT! These among several other questions were a continuously running stock exchange ticker passing through her consciousness.

In the wake of this paralyzing discovery Ms M made great effort to maintain some self composure. Her seemingly stiff advance towards the table did nothing to jar the two love birds mutual fixation. A timid server slight in nature offered Ms M a hand. In manipulating the breakdancing moves required for admittance to this table top party, it was necessary she drop to her knees. An unrelenting skirt made it impossible to lean down or back. She was then forced to make a not so subtle belly flop to the floor, turn on her side and swing her legs into the cavern below.

Resembling people awakened by an ambush the pair offered up simultaneously startled greetings……

Although Ms M would like to point out that if she were stranded on a deserted Island she most certainly would not be opposed to having her search and rescue party chalked full of Vegans.  After all, this is a powerful, brave and determined bunch. Throwing in the towel just isn’t in their DNA. She feels certain she would be rescued. Furthermore, if at all possible she would think it a good idea to embed oneself in a sweet yet vulnerable indigenous group of the four legged persuasion. A tactic that could drastically improve the chances of a swift recovery.
That being said, it makes her nervous when in a social environment more then one start to gather. Understandably this may explain why after receiving an invite to lunch from the BFF she was a bit hesitant. You see, the proposal of an enjoyable midday get together would include Prince Vegan.

Apparently her BFF and her newly found Prince had been held up in an undisclosed location under a blanket of what one might call a densely passionate fog of erotica.
So dangerously dense in fact that it was virtually impossible for the BFF to navigate safely through to find a phone and give Ms M a ring.

Its not that Ms M isn’t extremely grateful that at a very intense possible friendship dissolving moment this blessing of a romantic distraction materialized. Heaven only knows what would have happened to their Thelma and Louiseesque friendship if it hadn’t occurred. The fact is she was slightly miffed at the aforementioned for not even bothering to call to see how she was doing. After all, she had collapsed in the most humiliating way at a highly populated holiday gathering. For all the BFF knew she could be lying in a hospital somewhere with a semi permanent case of amnesia.  Just lying there for three weeks waiting for her dearest friend of 13 years to make an entrance and jar her memory. But no, not even a text.

With a painfully weighted feeling of remorse and all the binding chains of guilt that go with it, Ms. M. laid on the couch for a straight 24 hours. She did not even make the effort to address the mirror until Saturday morning. It was that bad.

Thursday started out innocently enough with an early morning walk by the lake. Making a concerted effort straight away to compensate for a day brimming with serious excess. We were in a hurry as Ms M. had to pick up a giant batch of wilted spinach and garlic confit from The Firehouse restaurant. I was  wrapped in a dashing bit of polar fleece, jumped in her bag, and we were off.  Ms. M. absolutely loves The Firehouse Thanksgiving day spread. Their BBQ meats are spectacular but today she needed to bring something to impress her newly Vegan BFF. A peace offering to make up for the reaction she had the day before at the official vegan coming out lunch. This would be sincerely appreciated and show Ms M. in a positive halo of support for this new life choice.

We were headed for a quick Firehouse swing by and then to what we hoped would be a Thanksgiving Yummfest. On the ride there, Ms M confided in me while gently stroking between my ears, that the day soon to unfold could actually end up much like the first Thanksgiving. Vegans and carnivores were not in too much contrast and may even be considered more akin to the new world settlers and Indians . Meeting at one large table sharing the same meal. People coming together that are very different bringing morsels of new and strange looking foods. Each side knowing the other could turn on them at any moment.  Kind of exciting really. Lets just hope the Vegans fare better after the dust settles then the Indians did.

At first entering the bungalow, a heavenly aroma  enveloped us and we embraced and kissed through what seemed  a never ending sea of friends and relatives. It wasn’t long though before that same loving embrace turned into an unrelenting galactic magnet that sucked us straight into the kitchen. Family and friends again everywhere trolling in and out gradually making it the epicenter of unabashed chaos. Being of slight stature I was beginning to fear for my own safety as well as for Ms M’s. Pots were boiling, some scolded child was sobbing, people were rushing by. An unsettlingly thin woman was violently chopping a mound of carrots using prehistoric size cutlery. I felt sure this gastronomic weaponry would be airborne any second. We must have been smashed into at least 5 times before Ms M dropped off our massive gift of greens and whisked us both to safety.

Saved by the dinner bell we were all called to take our seats. As luck or by design would have it our place card was next to the BFF. Where was she?
In the rush to get our walk in, get dressed, pick up the take out order and still make  this early dinner, we overlooked one… dare I say PARAMOUNT item on the to do list. PICK UP THE BFF!

This realization did not sit well with Ms M. She ripped through her bag like she had been poisoned and given a 3 second window to locate the antidote. SHE WAS FRANTIC. After her phone bobbed for air she could see it displayed 43 calls from 348-6718. FORTY THREE!! She froze, then slowly reached for the glass of wine in front of her, then the glass in front of the place setting to her left, and  finally the glass placed for the missing BFF to her right. She took a deep breath and made the call.

Turns out the BFF was so upset and so tired of waiting that she traveled down to the lobby of her apartment building. While there, she struck up a friendship with an attractive muralist working on a project for the complex. By another seemingly cosmic balancing twist of fate he turns out to be vegan. Huh, what luck.

Prince Vegan then offers her a ride and in turn she extends a Thanksgiving invite. By the time they take their rightful place next to us Ms. M. is feeling no pain. She begins passionately pleading her case for a BFF pardon. As per an old  family tradition religiously followed Ms. M. never eats a thing before Thanksgiving dinner. It is a strongly held custom that you STARVE yourself until you see the whites of the mash potato peaks along side the holiday carcass. Unfortunately this made for a saturated Ms M after just three glasses of a very fine Pinot Grigio. It was imperative for the BFF to understand why Ms M. stranded her. A mantra ensued of  how she was the only person in her entire world that means ONLY everything.  How she went the extra miles out of her way to bring  a little special something tonight. A fitting morsel to show her true feelings on the prior days vegan announcement. Ms. M. was positive the BFF would forgive her once presented with The Firehouse delight.

It was at just this moment that Grandmother Graham announced dinner had officially begun and after the holiday prayer suggested maybe Ms M could enlighten us all on the gift of 5 giant slabs of BBQ Ribs. An astronomically unfair, unbalanced,  mishap, with The Fireside restaurant pick up. Basically we grabbed the wrong order. The BFF took this as the proverbial straw and while ineffectively trying to make a clean exit, Ms. M. took an unexpected lie down in the front hall.

Wednesday lunch with Ms M., her BFF, Twink and The Mayor.

This is what Ms M calls taking a breather before the storm. It is a traditional pre-Thanksgiving ritual. A tried and true relaxation technique done prior to large family gatherings. The Bff’s pug The Mayor was in attendance as usual. This years coaching on how to get through the family Thanksgiving dinner with your self esteem safely intact was circumvented by a shocking and somewhat frightening announcement. The Bff was going VEGAN.  Ms M was speechless. What exactly did this mean? She could not wrap her mind around the definition of vegan. Wasn’t that tied to some religious cult? How could  Ms M. understand this…  she only just recently found out chicken broth, although not containing any actual chicken meat, could not be considered Vegetarian. Will this change life as they currently enjoyed it? If people find out, will they be hounded by an underground meat promoting secret society. Lets not forget what the Texas Cattle ranchers tried to do to Oprah.   Then all of the sudden Ms M went white and with the passion of some voluminous operatic narrative  blurted. ” You can still drink, right?”

Although assured that their favorite libations would still be part of their lives she was quite worried and still a little upset. Driving home, upon exiting the car the BFF blessed Ms M with the kindest morsel of Vegan news .  She leaned in as she was closing the door and whispered,  ”they say most vegans look at least 10 years younger then their contemporaries….and ALL are thin.”

This update put an entirely different light on the situation and altered the mood tremendously. I could see Ms M mulling this new tidbit of vegan information over with a sweet smile in development slowly graduating to a  full blown happy face by the time we made it home.