A Place to Eat, On Christmas Eve

People sometimes happen to look at this web page without having had the intention of doing so. Usually they arrive after choosing from Google suggestions, in answer to a question posed for reasons we only have hints of. I’ve seen searches that reach this page, as vague and distantly related as “car rental in San Antonio”. I once wrote a short piece on San Antonio, I was born there, but that was a long time ago, both the story and my birth. To wax a little philosophical, we all search for something, sometime in our lives, corny right? Try asking Google the meaning of life, hope you like Monte Python.

The question posed that brought me to my keyboard today is straight forward, but leaves me wondering. Perhaps I have an overactive imagination gland; seemingly inconsequential things send my mind racing like a mouse on a treadmill. These floods of thought occasionally end in clear conclusions but, not always, the mouse never gets there in the end.

The question put to Google was “places to eat fargo nd christmas eve”. I assume people don’t eat fargo, so I translated this as “Places to eat in Fargo North Dakota on Christmas Eve”. I’m familiar with Fargo to a small extent. I came from a medium/small town of around 100,000 people, and I like the movie of that name. Towns this size can be fantastic places to live, but also a little depressing to visit, been there, done that. By the way, none of the movie was shot in Fargo.

This is where the imagination kicks in. I immediately pictured a lonely traveller trying to get home for Christmas, but trapped in Fargo by the severe snow storms currently crossing America. Safe at home and needing something to do on Christmas day, I began imagining the story behind the question. The dilemma I often face broke into a smile again, as it seems prone to do. How do I turn a potentially heart-warming or even sad story into one with some humour in it, but in less than two thousand words?

I like to write with a tongue in cheek, preferably my own, at least until I find one attached to someone better looking, oh God....anyway. The answer I came up with was not to write the story I wanted at all, but to explore variations. This might offer some funny for the story, or, since its Christmas day a little sadness for me, don’t you think? Back to our cold and lonely traveller.

Father O’Brien un-wrapped the last of the cookies he had brought from the Nativity Catholic Church dinner. Still amused by the coincidence of the name, he smiled, fancy, a church with that name giving a free Christmas Eve dinner for lonely and homeless people. His parish in Sioux Falls couldn’t match that. If only he’d taken the time to eat for himself he thought swallowing the last cookie and sliding into the narrow bus seat. The driver, looking at his watch for the third time in as many minutes shook his head while reaching for the microphone, he didn’t like delays especially when 300 miles from home and on Christmas Eve. “Ladies and gentlemen” he said with no joy in his voice, “the snow storm...” Father O’Brien’s more than ample stomach growled with annoyance, or was it hunger?

Some potential funny there, perhaps. A priest, big waistline, from out of town, a bus driver in the same situation. Now, if those cookies had been made by old Miss Wilfred who firmly believed in cannabis for medical purposes. Where else can I go that’s different? Romance, murder, horror, I’m sure if I tried hard enough they’d all be good for a laugh.

Deadlines only frighten writers who have something to lose, Sara reminded herself as the keyboard stopped clacking. “This is ridiculous” she said aloud, “I’m a food critic for god’s sake’. Her editor would have the column when it was ready, she thought while voicing her true feelings, “bulimic bitch”.  She could feel Henrys presence in the room as she moved toward the window. His absence emphasised by the tiny things he seemed to have left behind..... “Christmas just isn’t the same” he said from the dark corner behind her..... Okay, what do we have here? Romance, perhaps murder, a ghost?, the bulimic bitch could have been (or still be) having an affair with Henry.

Maybe I’m wrong and I don’t need to write funny into everything. It’s just that to me, funny seems more... fun.

There was another Google search on my site today, “something christmassy to laugh at” Why would this person need something Christmassy to laugh at I wondered. To me the question sounds more like a prayer, what could drive a person to offer one to Google?

The joy of the Christmas season had held this family together for many years. Her tears seemed to fall as slowly as snowflakes; the frosted window reflecting her face and the fires warm glow. A loud burp from the room behind her was reminder enough that the men in the Graviano family expected action from the entertainer, not melancholy. She pulled on the huge floppy shoes and adjusted her red rubber nose... Got to be some funny in there somewhere, or maybe, there doesn't have to be after all.

The Nativity Catholic Church is at 1825, 11th Street South, Fargo North Dakota. The Christmas Eve dinner and party for people spending Christmas alone was a success, I hope. The dinner and party was also held at Olivet Lutheran Church on University Drive. Both Google queries mentioned above are true.

JAWhite                                     Photo by me, Canon camera still working
December 2009
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