In search of Shirley and Bob and a turkey

We went to pick our turkey today. We're getting a fresh one, not frozen, which is a change for us. Part of the reason is that a friend of ours, ChefMeister, is doing special preparation of the turkey including deboning. Its great. The turkey is cooked and looks like a regular bird except that you slice through without having to deal with bones. He's done it before and it came out wonderfully. But unfortunately we neglected to take said beast out of the fridge soon enough (the turkey, not our friend) and ChefMeister was there trying to work his magic with a particularly unhelpful 'frozen to the bone' turkey.

CM has agreed to repeat his culinary genius again this weekend, but informed us that a frozen turkey would result in no turkey for us this year.

Anyway today as we went in the local grocery store, from which we'd preordered the bird, it was busy as all get out. Everyone and their goat was busy buying up all manner of edible goodies to load onto their Christmas dinner table. The line at the deli was by ticket only and I took the next ticket which was #61 and currently being served was #38. This did not look good. Each customer was ordering masses of havarti, crates of cheddar and enough Bavarian salami to feed five thousand. I would get served by the twelfth day of Christmas.

I went to the front cash desk where there was an equally long line and asked about getting my turkey. They said "Oh no problem. Just go to the front of the deli line and yell for Bob, and you will be fine." Gregoire looked at the line and then looked at me as if to say "Be my guest." So that's what I did. "BOB!", I shrieked. A few people looked at me grumpily, defiantly clutching their tickets which were no doubt obtained way before my measly #61. Nooone behind the counter reacted and "Bob" did not say a word. I repeated the shout for Bob. A couple of young servers looked at me balefully but had obviously lost the power of speech.

Back I went to the cash desk supervisor. She sighed and said patiently, "OK, go back and yell for Bob and Shirley and that you want your turkey NOW". I trekked back to the deli again, the bit between my teeth this time. I shouted "Bob! Shirley! Shirley! Bob! COME IN BOAT #2. MERRY CHRISTMAS! I'm here for my TURKEY!

Instant response this time. "I'm Bob" called back a man who was talking on a cell phone, smiling and waving at me at the same time. "I'm Shirley" a pretty, dark haired woman waved and starting walking over to me. Shirley was intercepted by one persistent customer, who managed to get in an order for a bucket full of olives, before she paid attention to me.

I gave Shirley the chit for the turkey and she said, "How big a turkey do you want?" This sounded ominous. Surely they knew that already, but I kept my cool and said "17 pounds". She furrowed her brow and said, "Oh I'm not sure about that. 17 pounds? Are you sure?" I confirmed that again and gave her our name and phone number. Shirley was cheerful and friendly enough but sounded very doubtful. She went over to her list and painstakingly checked through it. Then she called over "We have it!" She disappeared for a time to search the back room for the bird. Meanwhile the crowd in the deli were impatiently waiting as they had one less assistant to help them, as she was helping me. I felt like I had "Queue-Jumper" tattooed on my forehead.

Just then Shirley emerged right next to me with the 17 pound beast. It was more expensive than we'd anticipated but looked perfect. "Is there anything else you'd like while you are here", she asked me loudly. The people around me groaned. Ah, to heck with them. "Yes thanks" I replied, "I'd like a hunk of cheddar and after that a nice big piece of havarti." Shirley grinned at me, and returned behind the deli counter and went to cut me a sizeable chunk of cheddar.

So now we're home. Its raining like Noah's flood outside, but at least we have our bird safely inside and its dead, but not frozen to death. There might just be turkey for us this year.