Lunchtime Poll

Lunchtime Poll: Thanksgiving Travel Disasters!

As someone who never has had to travel very far for Thanksgiving, I am pretty obsessed with travel stories. Since I can’t really imagine the holiday travel horror, in my mind it’s like the greatest, most terrible obstacle course ever designed by man, and always looks and feels exactly like the plot of Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

Including John Candy cuddles.

The farthest I’ve ever had to travel was from Poughkeepsie to Long Island, which as any map will tell you, is not very far at all. I did spend one Thanksgiving away from my family, during my junior year semester abroad. My only Thanksgiving travel-related hiccup then, was realizing that we had 15 minutes until the Metro closed to get to our respective homes, followed by the drunk sprint through central Madrid.

Have you been similarly lucky? No? Share your travel woes below!

By Karishma

Karishma is a twenty-something living in New York City and is trying her hardest to live out every cliche about Millennials. This involves eating her feelings, drowning in debt and mocking infomercials. She likes sociology so much that she has two degrees in it, and is still warding off her parents' questions about a real career.

3 replies on “Lunchtime Poll: Thanksgiving Travel Disasters!”

One year, I was driving home to my parents for the holiday, and I had one of my cats in a cardboard carrier, the ones with the holes in the sides and the handle on top. She was PISSED to be in the car and was yowling like nobody’s business. I was in the fast lane on the freeway, moving at a good clip, and I was sticking my fingers through the holes in the side trying to pet her and calm her down. Instead, she impaled my finger with her claw, which became stuck in my skin. She was trying to yank it out while I was attempting to get across three lanes of traffic without killing myself or anyone else. I pulled over, ripped the box open and pried her claw out of my completely shredded finger. The box was destroyed and covered with my blood. I bawled like a baby on the side of the road for about 15 minutes as I used my favorite beanie to sop up my mangled digit. Then I had to drive the rest of the way with her on my lap since the box was no more. Thankfully I was almost home. That sucked ass.

We never went anywhere for Thanksgiving (well, one year we joined a neighbor’s family and it was amazing and we had no dishes to deal with) but I went home for Thanksgiving twice in college. Getting THERE was always easier than getting BACK, because the traffic was horrid (several universities and colleges in the same part of state, and the usually okay highways were overloaded, so a five-hour trip could become a nine-hour trip). At least the company was good.

We’ve been hosting Thanksgiving at our house for years, but when my Grannie was still alive, we’d drive from Florida to Nashville, TN. The only real disasters were Atlanta traffic, which we never could seem to avoid no matter how early we left and my parents screaming at each other at some point during the trip. The screaming usually occurred right before or right after we got to Atlanta.

One time, my parents were arguing while we were in gridlock and my sister said, “If you don’t stop fighting, I’m getting out!” That was funny.

Leave a Reply