I was born in the south. I live in the south and will die in the south. This is only a small part of the memories I share.
If You Are a First-Time Lobster-Eater, You Need to See This:
Here You And Your Lovely Wife
are. You have arrived home an hour earlier, chatted with your lovely wife, and decided where you want to go to eat. Arguably, this question always brings debate. Truthfully, the more-bolder people love to take the truth and argue. Suppose that this builds the ego. But you have showered, dressed, and used the high-price cologne that your lovely wife gave you for your birthday. You have so many bottles of cologne that we will not see a "Cologne Shortage" for numerous years. Here is an economics fact: gasoline is different than men's perfume. Remember the Gas Shortage in the 70's? I do. So do you. But have you ever hear or read about a lobster shortage?
No. And you won't anytime from now. Please humor me and tell me that you are confused right about now. Okay. I'm getting back to the restaurant choice made by your lovely wife. Truthfully, you are too hungry to argue, because you work for a construction company and able to eat like a pair of Clydesdales. You can afford it. You pull ddown $2,300.00 a week before taxes. Good thing that you and your wife live in Caliornia. I would comment about taxes in the Golden State, but I would be guilty of forging-up a hot and nasty political snit.
$2,300.00? Okay. $1,700.00 after minimal taxes. Still, compared to most day laborers, this is like being a millionaire compared to working at a fast food restaurant. Careful. I know. Snits.You pull down right at $45.00 per hour on the construction company that is now going gangbusters. But the hidden trick is, you work from 7 a.m. until 6:30 p.m. And mister, it's work. Hard work. I know. I've watched a lot of TV shows where hard work was featured. Put me right to sleep.
We Arrive at "Jolly Joe's Seafood, Inc."
and chomping at the scales and pincers to eat hearty. You help your lovely wife out of your new Lexus, which you only owe seven payments and she's yours. Your lovely wife picked it out. Oh, I forgot. When you and your lovely wife go out, she suggests that you dress accordingly. She already does. She came from a well-to-do upper middle class family and her dad worked for every penny that he has. He did his share of hard work. This is the common bond between you and dad.
Upon reading the menu, the waiter to be respectful, asks your lovely wife for her order. Lobster, she coos. Your lovely wife has manners. Sadly, you have to watch what you say and how loudly. Kinda like being a giant ape being married to a lucky safari hunter. Okay. Snits. I haven't forgot. You order what your lovely wife says, lobster for me too, and she nods in ageement. I will help you by asking you a few serious questions in a bit.
Have You or Anyone
Gripe #1 ...ever witnessed a lovely woman go at eating a lobster? It's down right pathetic. Unless this lovely woman has passed a rigid "Lobster Dining Course," then that explains why she is fumbling around like a football being fumbled in the NFL. You are her husband, so you begin sweating. But my friend, it is you who is fumbling to eat your lobster. First. You do not know how to correctly eat such a dish. Oh, how you pray inwardly that you are eating a good old bologna sandwich with fresh bread. And that fresh iced tea. Wow. But sadly, you are far from eating a fresh bologna on fresh bread and that fresh tea, you are trying so hard to just get one bite of this big "red beast," and I am not talking about Communism that broke-up during President Reagan's regime.
Gripe #2 . ..Ever sat and watched your lobster and quickly-look only to find that your meal is staring at you with two eyes? It's a sad fact that this dinner choice was not yours, but your lovely wife's idea. But do not think evil. She takes care of you. She has a cleaning woman, a cook, someone to get groceries and able to take a long bubble bath in the afternoon. You can afford it. So you do not bark at the lobster decision. This is the number two gripe that goes with the knowledge that eating delicious lobster isn't for everyone.
Before I go on to Gripe #3 (below), you are not completely a "lobster in the headlights." Your best buddy, "Craig W. Lewis," one of your friends at work, got tight one Friday evening and carried you and your lovely wife out for, guess what? Lobster. Your lovely wife never argued. This was not new ground for her to claim. But for you, at that time, you thought that this might be exciting.
Now to Gripe #3 . . .try to relax and enjoy a lobster dinner dressed in a tailored suit, (that your lovely wife bought for you), dress shoes and Italian-made shirt. Expensive? Yes. But if you get a bite on this material, it will be your butt, not hers. Your hand shakes as you take the special fork designed for opening a lobster and give it the "old college try," lo and behold, you scored a big bite of that fresh whte meat from the right claw, but before you chow down, your lovely wife instructs you to dip it in butter that is in this small cup in front of your plate, but as soon as her words have left her pretty lips, lo and behold, up goes the bite of lobster, bread, and drink of hot tea. Another suggestion by your lovely wife.
Two things; one, when did a company ever design and manufacture a lobster fork? Won't a regular fork do the job? Second, you might think that waiters are slow .. .not so. No sooner than your delicious bite of lobster has hit the floor until not one, but four waiters have ran to your table only to hear giggling from your lovely wife, but do not worry. She has this. She tells the waiters that you did not mean to throw your food into the air thinking that you were doing a great impression of "Bluarti," John Belushi, of Animal House when he yells, food fight! So you have narrowly-escaped an embarrassing tongue-lashing from your lovely wife, but she looks in your direction ever so often with a glare on her face.
Let's see about Gripe #4 . . . and this is the saddest piece of free advice that anyone could ever give you. While you are waiting for the lobster plate to be placed in front of you, there is that unmistakably-sound of someone crying. Did one of my writers, Rod Serling show-up? No. What's really chilling-to-the-bone is that you are the only one who is listening to that terrifying singing. Your lovely wife is being quiet, eating her lobster very properly, and you freeze as you take that one bite of your lobster and you hear it again..."ohhh, pleeeeze. Save me! Pleeze save me! I don't want to die . . .hheellllp!"
You heard it alright. And understand every word. You cannot tell your lovely wife about what has happened, because she will laugh at you and give you a sedative when you arrive home. You just remain calm and act like you are eating and this is only to fool your lovely wife.
Then . . .like a cloud out of the blue . . .Eureka! A terrific idea. And it's all yours. Your lovely wife had nothing to do with it. You know what? You could end-up owning your construction company with genius-based ideas like this. But you think it over a time or two, and it will works.
You call your waiter. You ask him for a take-home box. He is quick to oblige. And smiles. Your lovely wife is amazed at the possibility that this might be a way for you to lose weight. Nope.
It's a Lobster Box, that can go home with you.
With no snits.
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© 2021 Kenneth Avery
Ravi Rajan from Mumbai on March 31, 2021:
A good bit of information Kenneth. The irony of the situation is that once lobsters were considered poor man's food and from that point of time its fortunes changed and it became one of the most exotic sea delicacies ever eaten in the US and Europe.Thanks for sharing.