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.
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