The office Thanksgiving party �Food To Bring� list was posted in the break room. I signed my name next to �turkey�.
Little did I know it�d be prophetic.
Wanting something other then the usual bland meat, I�d seen advertisements on tv for Cajun Fried turkey from a fast food place that usually sells fried chicken.
I inquired. $35 plus tax. I ordered one filling out the paper work stating the pickup date of November 24, 11 � 11:30 a.m.
The morning of the party, I was at the chicken place at 10:50. I showed the lady at the counter my pre-paid receipt. She disappeared to the back.
While waiting the smell of cooking food reminded me I was hungry. Hmmm... maybe I should sample a bite or three of the turkey before returning to work... My mouth watered.
�Here you are, sir. Hope you enjoy it!� She handed me the bag.
"Thanks!" I reached, one hand clutching the top of the bag, the other at the bottom for support.
�Huh?� The bottom felt cold.
My hands roamed the bird. Sure enough, not only was it cold, it was frozen. �What�s this?� I asked the smiling lady.
�It�s your turkey.�
�It�s�it�s not cooked!�
�Sure it is!�
�No ma�m, it isn�t.� I thumped it annoucing the sound and hardness of a bowling ball.
She peeled back the bag, pointed to the plastic wrap next to the cooking instructions, 'Cooked Turkey, Cajun Style' �See, it�s cooked! You just have ta warm it up. Takes about two hours.�
Two hours!� I screamed. You don�t understand. Twenty people are suppose to be eating off it in thirty minutes!
�Not this one," she patted it like it was a lone lost relative, "it�ll take two hours.�
�Wha�� I�m stunned. �You sell fast food. When I order chicken it�s hot, not luke-warm, or cold. Especially not frozen. It�s cooked, ready to eat!�
�Sir, it�s cooked.�
I rolled my eyes, here we go again. �Ma�m, nobody is going to be eating it in thirty minutes, much less ten. What am I going to do?�
�You want the turkey or not?�
I grabbed the fowl, feeling fouled. I was cooking, not just warmed up. I was frying. Steamed. Burnt beyond well done.
I sat in my car wondering what to do. How am I going to face everyone at work with a frozen turkey?
I did something I should have done at the start. I prayed. I didn�t expect God to zap the bird with the spiritual micro-wave of his hand, but it�d be nice�
No, I asked for help, and wisdom as to what to do. I started the car and headed for work.
Exiting the highway I spied a Bar-B-Q restaurant. I wonder if they have a way or method of cooking something quickly�� I went in, explained what happened.
'Willie' nodded sympathetically, �We use an oven.� He closed one eye, looked at the turkey mentally guestimating the cooking time, �Take two hours, maybe an hour and half. Sorry.�
I leaned back against the wall, disgusted. I looked at the clock, 11:20. That�ll mean it�d be ready about 1, not in time for the party. Another prayer.
After opening my eyes I noticed he was slicing a turkey loaf.
My answer was right in front of me, Thank you, Lord! �Willie, how many of those do you have?�
�Bout thirty.�
�How much will I need to feed twenty people?�
�Most people eat can five ounces, some eight--�
�Give me five pounds. That�ll tie them over until the bird is done!�
And it did.
One more thing to be thankful for�