It’s here — the annual fork in the road. The decision we all have to make: Will I or won’t I ruin my Thanksgiving?
There’s something in the air on Thanksgiving Eve that pulls us off the couch, out of our sweatpants, and back into the neighborhood — a little dressed up, a lot nostalgic, and suddenly flirting with someone you haven’t seen since eighth grade.
Back in the day, it was Cat Tunes at Florian Hall. Then, a decade later, Thomas Park took the reins. Beers slowly gave way to Bacardi and Coke or Woo Woo shots. You danced with your friends like tomorrow wasn’t Thanksgiving. Making out with your longtime neighborhood crush. Bumming cigarettes. And that morning workout or Turkey Trot you vowed to attend? Slowly dissolving into fantasy by drink number four.
And then comes the morning,

Caught in Southie

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