Having prepared many a Thanksgiving turkey in my time on this earth, I will be the first to say that the act itself is not intentionally sexy. Usually, you are tired. You desire java. Your arm is digging around in the icy cavity of a hideous alien, stripped of its feathers and furbelows, reaching for a neck bone and a bag of giblets. You will need to scratch your nose, but your hand is covered in compound butter. You have been caressing the carcass of a turkey as if it were the soft back of a new lover; you’ve made it to second base without even thinking about it. Perhaps a family member will wander in and ask you if you need help, then back away after seeing what lies before them: you, a turkey, and an unexpectedly.... sensual scene.
Think about it! I know that sex and rubbing a turkey up and down are two very different things, but there’s something inappropriately and unfortunately raunchy about the act of preparing a turkey for Thanksgiving, especially if you happen to find yourself accidentally listening to Luther Vandross and Cheryl Lynn singing “If This World Were Mine” because that’s what came up on shuffle and you can’t change that shit because your hands are covered in slime.
I’m not saying you should treat Turkey Rubbing time as if it were particularly squicky foreplay for... dinner, I guess, but maybe listening to these hand-selected fuck songs will inspire body rolls in a way that seems fun and not pervy. Happy Thanksgiving! Gobble, gobble.