6th Floor Super Bowl Snacks

Welcome to the 6^th floor.

Today's contributors are: Tabitha, Billy and Scott.

Subject: 6^th Floor's Snack Post

“I want to talk about something to you that's very important to me.” Billy says solemnly, looking at Scott and Tabitha sitting on the couch across from him.

“What kind of snacks are we having on Saturday? And what type of food for dinner?”

Scott snickers.

“Ann and I are going shopping tomorrow. We'll get a bunch of chips and frozen appetizers and the like.”

“Get some of those little, wrapped hot dog things.”

“Pigs in a blanket?”

“Yes! Those!”

“I saw this delicious recipe for Guinness brownies. We should make those!”

“Beer brownies?” Tabitha makes a face. “That's on you.”

“Well, first we'll need some Guinness.”

“That's a given.”

“One for the brownies, one to drink while you make the brownies?”

“Yeah! I like the way you think Tabitha.”

“I'm just hoping for good commercials anyway. Like last year.”

“No changing the topic. Should we order food on Sunday?”

“You know food always takes a decade to get here on Super Bowl Sunday.”

“We could order early.”

“Order at the start of the second inning..”

“Quarter.”

“Whatever. And then it should be ready for half time right? Who's performing this year?”

“Springsteen.”

“Springsteen? Geeze, they're sure playing it safe these days.”

“Springsteen's good though..”

“He is..but it's still safe. Just don't think that's the right reason to pick a band.”

“Any other snack requests?”

“No, I trust your judgment.”

“You do?”

“No. But I trust you'll shop early and I'll be able to bitch about your choices early enough to get more stuff.”

Tabitha rolls her eyes.

Repeal Day Note

Welcome to the 6^th floor.

Today's contributors are: Ann

Subject: Repeal Day Note

Hey everyone. I'm working tonight and won't be home, but I wanted to remind you that Wednesday is Repeal Day. I figured the simplest place to drink would be Catalina's, and I'm not working that night so it does work out. I'll actually be able to celebrate with all of you, and I don't think enough people have caught onto the holiday yet that I'd be missing any big tips or anything. It really is the ultimate drinking holiday though, no strings attached, just the celebration of alcohol. Not that the six of us really need any excuses to party or celebrate alcohol. If you're looking for a prohibition era cocktail to order Wednesday, you can check out Jeffrey Morgenthaler's Mixologist Blog, but I think most of them are a little more complicated than Zachary (Catalina's bartender) is used to handling. He's not a bad bartender, but he's certainly not in Jeffrey's league. It's a shame he lives in Oregon, although he says he's going to be in New York for the holiday. Oh dear, I'm rambling again. I just wanted to remind you all that we should celebrate, and we should do it at Catalina's on Wednesday. Talk to you later.

P.S. I'm sticking this on the television because I know you guys are going to watch the Monday Night Football game and this way you won't miss it.

A 6th Floor Thanksgiving: The Potato Wager

Welcome to the 6^th floor.

Today's contributors are: Ann, Sara, Tabitha, Frank, Billy and Scott.

Subject: a 6^th Floor Thanksgiving Story, part two

2:15-

“Mmm! Something smells good!” Sara says, as she walks into the apartment after having left for an after-brunch walk with Tabitha and Frank.

“Could it be Turkey?”

“That would be my guess. How's the game?”

“Brett Farve's destroying the lions.”

“Nice..by the smell...4 hours until dinner?”

“About that, yes. Good guess.”

“Thy nose never lies.”

“Either that, or because I told you dinner was at about 6:30 earlier.”

“No, it's the nose.”

“So we having mid-meal appetizers here?”

“Geeze Billy, don't you ever take a break?”

“Breaks are for the weak!”

“And the thin.”

“Hey now. That wasn't nice. I just put on my holiday weight preemptively!”

“Of course you did dear. I'll cook up those appetizers Tabitha bought.”

“You bought appetizers? With me?”

“You were preoccupied with trying to find a smaller turkey. I got us some pigs in a blanket, some jalapeno poppers, some fennel and olives, and the usual chips and dip.”

“Now that's what I'm talking about!”

“Pass the chips and veggies. They should tide us over until the pigs come out.”

"I thought you two were already sitting on the couch?"

"Wow Sara, you're really on today."

"Just a little revenge. They're always like that."

"These chips are good! What kind are they?"

"Potato."

"Nice! Good choice Tabitha!"

"Speaking of potato, what kind of potato are we eating with dinner?"

"I've got a nice garlic mashed potato recipe going over here. My aunt's recipe."

"Mmm...mashed potatoes."

"Does anyone know what the difference is between mashed and smashed potatoes? You seem them both in restaurants sometimes. Are they the same thing?"

"Maybe how violently they're prepared? Smashed potatoes are prepared by throwing them at walls and hitting them with hammers?"

"That seems unlikely. I always thought smashed potatoes seemed thicker, but I don't know why."

"I looked it up once. They are generally thicker. The main difference is that smashed potatoes aren't whipped. Once you use an electric mixer you start to get more of a whipped feel to them and then they become mashed potatoes instead."

"Maybe I should mix them by hand so they're smashed potatoes?"

"Whatever's faster."

"It doesn't matter what's faster, you're not getting them until dinner time either way."

"Wanna bet?"

"That's not a bet you want to take Billy."

“Oh yes it is!”

Others: “Dun Dun Dun!”

Will Billy manage to eat the potatoes right under Ann’s nose, or will Ann successfully defend the spuds until dinner?

Will dinner turn out alright, or will Ann horribly burn everyone so that we’re vomiting all night?

Who will be the first to fall to the tryptophan and take a nap?

To find out, stay tuned for another episode of “As the 6^th Floor turns.”

To Be Continued....

Thanksgiving Day Parade

Welcome to the 6^th floor.

Today's contributors are: Billy and Scott.

Subject: Thanksgiving Day Parade

Billy enters Starbucks, walking over to Scott who is half-heartedly sweeping the lobby while chatting with one of his regular customers, Henry.

"Hey Scott, Henry, what's up?"

"Billy! How you doing? What train were you working on today?"

"The L Train. Next stop, 14th Street, Union Square! May you find plenty of union with pretty ladies upstairs!"

"Amen to that! Henry here was just telling me about his Thanksgiving plans. I think he's a bit insane though."

Henry: "I don't think attending the parade is insane. I am going with a lady friend though."

"You left that part out! A hot lady friend? Is this a date? You'll keep her out in the cold all day and then drop the 'Want to go back to my place and warm up?' line on her?"

"Oh! Sweet line. I don't have any plans for Thanksgiving yet. What are you doing Scott?"

"Wait, you haven't heard all of Henry's plans yet. He's not just spending all day Thursday at the parade, he's going to watch the balloons be blown up Wednesday night too."

"Watch them get blown up? People do that? I guess that could be neat, seems an awfully long time to spend with inflatable balloons though."

Henry: "I don't know if it's that crazy. We're going to go see the balloons, get some sleep, and then get up early to find a good spot. We'll load up on coffee and donuts to eat on line and see the parade. I've never seen it in person before, and it'll be over in time to get to my Uncle's for thanksgiving dinner."

"I'm sorry Scott, I have to agree with Henry. It's not that crazy, it sounds like a long day, but it could even be kind of romantic."

"You'll certainly work up an appetite standing around for hours. Is it supposed to be windy on Thanksgiving? I always love seeing the balloons get away."

Henry: "It's too early to tell."

"I hope so. Get lost Henry, I'm going to talk to Billy now."

Henry: "Roger. Seeya."

Henry departs, headed off down the block.

"So, you going home for Thanksgiving Scott?"

"Nah. I'll just mill around the apartment, watch football, eat nothing but pie."

"Yeah. Pie. That sounds good. Lots of pie. Think Tabitha or Ann will bake us some pies before they go wherever they're going?"

"Maybe. I think Frank might be staying here too. He's decided he doesn't want to put up with the job question this year."

"Don't blame him. Relatives always seem to think they know what is best for you."

"Who needs the girls anyway? We'll have a nice sports filled day, without any nagging or creamed turnips."

"I don't mind the turnips as much as the brussel sprouts."

Scott makes a gagging noise. "I'll pass on pretty much all the green stuff."