Eat It Before It Eats You

                 On our way back from an overseas deployment in early 1998, USS George Washington dropped anchor in Cannes, France.  Even though the famous film festival was months away and it was too cold for topless beaches, it was still a welcome respite from the rigors of being at-sea.  Plus, since it would be our last port call before returning to our homeport, we had a chance to pick up some last-minute souvenirs.

On the other hand,
closed topless beaches may have been a blessing.
I hadn't realized French girls were so hairy.

                After an afternoon of shopping, two friends and I decided to have lunch.  Even though we, strangely, felt like getting some Chinese food (those types of restaurants are all over the world), we were surprisingly unable to find any. 

                So, we had lunch at a charming French (naturally) café.  One of my friends,  who we called "Godfather" (I can't exactly remember why.  Give me a break.  It's been twenty-four years) and I elected to go with a beef, lamb, pork, some kind of meat entree (once again, over two decades).

I figured wearing a sweatshirt which said "Quebec"
on it would mark me as a true Francophone. 
Or nerd.

                Our other friend, who we called "Wanking Clown" said he felt like fish.

                NOTE:  Like with "Godfather," I can't remember why we called him that.  If you look up the definition of "wanking," you'll find that it is slang for masturbation.  Now, since our friend (won't give you his real name) wasn't prone to "rubbing one out" in public (thank God), I'm sure that wasn't the reason we called him that.  The more I thought about it, though, the more I remember that we said that bitching about something was the same thing as wanking about something.  That kind of makes sense.  Because he certainly bitched a lot.  Sooooo, we used a slang expression for another slang expression.  We were weird that way.  In fact, we called eating dinner "taking it in the face."  Which, when you say it out loud, could be taken in a completely different context.   The "clown" bit?  Yeah, that was totally legit.

"Homey is hurt."

                Anyway, once his order arrived, he paled.  Instead of the neatly sliced and prepared fish he was expecting,  Wanking Clown was served an...entire...fish.

                He immediately complained (wanked), "KEN! KEN! I CAN'T EAT THIS!  IT'S A WHOLE FISH!  WITH EYES!  I CAN'T EAT ANYTHING THAT'S LOOKING AT ME!  HOW DO YOU EAT SOMETHING THAT'S LOOKING AT YOU?"

                As we laughed, he whined (wanked), "I feel like I should apologize to it!  Maybe I should eat it from the tail so it's NOT looking at me!"

                Godfather and I took great delight in his discomfort and hooted at his dilemma.  It became a story which we held onto long after we returned to the United States.  I was amazed that he didn't think of the possibility of getting an entire fish.

                Fast (sorta) forward to last week.

                Asked by my girlfriend to join her on an all-expense paid trip to Puerto Rico, I had a wonderful five days at a resort hotel on the island's northeast coast.  On our first night, we joined another couple at a pretty swanky restaurant on site.  Although a little pricey, it would prove to be one of the highlights of our  stay.

                The tiramisu was a little dry, though.  But, I wank.

                The menu was chock full of all sorts of tasty-looking possibilities.  When our waiter suggested the catch of the day, a two-pound yellowfin snapper, I thought that sounded downright delicious.  So, the catch of the day it was.

                After a short while, our meals arrived.

                Somewhere in this world, a Wanking Clown is feeling an amusing disturbance in the Force.

                For, my two-pound yellowfin snapper was an entire two-pound yellowfin snapper.

                With eyes.  

"Hey!  Who TF you lookin' at?  Punk."