A Thanksgiving Performance Piece

True Story

In the early 90’s when I first moved to Los Angeles, Thanksgiving was always a difficult holiday. I didn't have any family here and hadn't developed a strong friend network. I mean, I didn't mind spending it by myself, but I did feel the pressure of having to spend it alone.

So one Thanksgiving I thought I would solve my problem by creating a performance piece. I got dressed up in stylish black; black dress, black elbow length gloves, black hat with a veil, black nylon stockings and vintage black shoes. I was going to take myself to Thanksgiving dinner at the Pantry, one of the oldest restaurants in downtown LA, sit at the counter with the truck drivers and give them something to wonder about. I was going to play the part of a mysterious woman having and enjoying a Thanksgiving feast by herself.

At the time I owned a robin eggshell blue, vintage, 1961 Mercury Comet. As it was my first car I knew absolutely nothing about proper car maintenance.

It was dark outside by the time I got onto the 10 freeway heading east. I swung up onto the Harbor and as the car glided round the 9th Street exit, smoke suddenly started pouring out the front of the car, throwing a wrench in my perfect plan. Or was this the God of Mischief deciding to join in the performance piece? Or was this the Goddess of Car Maintenance providing me with a teachable moment? Luckily there was absolutely no traffic and I was able to pull over to the curb as soon as I got off the exit, right across the street from the Pantry. I jumped out of the car, opened up the hood and tried to figure out where the smoke was coming from.

In the early 80’s, the land between the Pantry and the Harbor Freeway was occupied by private homes, not the tall office buildings that exist there now. As I hopelessly and helplessly looked up and down the empty street, I noticed a hispanic man sitting on the porch of one of the houses. As I headed his way I imagined what he just witnessed. A true damsel in distress.

I approached the porch asking if he knew anything about cars. He must've been in his early 30s and was rather handsome. He answered “A little something. Let me take a look” He put his beer down and slowly got up. We walked across the street, he stood in front of the car and stared down. Finally he bent under the hood, reached in and fussed with this and that. I stood by the car grateful for his presence, but I worried that my little savings wouldn’t cover the cost of towing and fixing it. I wondered if I should've just stayed at home.

Finally, he stood up, wiped his hands against his jeans and said “I know what this car needs.”

I held my breath, anxiously thinking “a new engine?”

“This car…it needs a man.”

I thought “You’re telling me.” and burst out laughing as he grinned and said “No big deal. The radiator is out of water. I'll go get some.”

He came back with two big jugs of water and filled up the radiator. I really wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him but refrained and instead thanked him profusely. He said no big deal, turned his back and headed to his porch. I jumped in the car and found a proper parking spot.

When I walked into the Pantry, the place was full of happy families sitting in the booths. I didn't have to wait because I wanted to sit at the counter with the truck drivers. I ordered the Thanksgiving meal with all the fixings, apple pie and ice cream for dessert. Performance piece successfully completed.