There is nothing to eat here. I’ve been scouring the trash bins for days now, and no one seems to have a great-tasting rotisserie chicken. One that’s freshly seasoned with golden brown skin. I’m not too sure what to give him now. A few days later, the woman next to me on the A train caught me speaking softly to myself. I could feel her gaze without having to look up, and she did not stop staring for a while. I found it amusing, so I let the story leak from my lips, and into her ears. Well, I kept thinking that maybe my approach wasn’t on the friendlier side but I did knock. The window was cracked open, so I told Lily to open the back door so I could come in but she didn’t let me. It’s odd not to let a guest in who clearly has food to share. She looked at my chicken, then at me, then at my chicken, then behind me, and then at me again. I couldn’t keep a smile for no longer than two minutes- I’ve counted. Lily told me to throw the chicken out before coming in but I kept saying why. Why would I throw this perfectly made chicken out in the trash when I finally found it? “Go home.” By this point, the woman’s curiosity had her leaning closer to me, almost reaching down to hear me fully. So I cranked it up a notch. How could Lily tell me to go home when she was in my home? This is my home! So, I stared at her and laughed. She took that as an opportunity to slightly close the door behind her while her body was hanging out the backdoor frame. But don’t worry, I couldn’t let Lily do this to me. I remember holding the chicken with a tighter grip and just storming right past her. She couldn’t keep up anyway. So, I walked through the kitchen and said “hi” to Sloan, who was dumbfounded by my appearance. I heard the knife drop and footsteps behind me. I knew it was Sloan too. I yelled, “Everyone, food is ready!” Every head turned from the living room couch, I heard running from upstairs, and before anyone could stop me- I took a pause, turned to the woman, looked into her eyes, and continued. I dropped that insect-infested, covered in rat droppings, bottom of the dumpster rotisserie chicken onto the table, and let every ounce of filth spread all over that god-forsaken house. Her face turned sour and she shifted herself upright to stare straight ahead. She refused to look at me. Alright, just hear me out- Leon deserved what was coming to him. The look on his face was beyond words, and Lily was fuming. Oh, yeah, Leon was my ex. Did I mention how he’s been roaming free after trying to kill me? Yeah, so that was my Thanksgiving. The train had stopped at Hoyt-Schermerhorn Station, and the woman ran out of the cart with a clutched purse and no glance back. I’d expect her to sympathize with me. We were wearing the same Rag & Bone shirt, and I’d assume she admired my brown Jil Sander mules, but I guess there was a massive gap in our understanding.