Sunday, April 5, 2009

The worst meal I ever had

Red Lobster looks like a really happy fun family place to eat at except it not. It’s a place of childhood fears and future childhood traumas. They try to act all sweet when you walk through the door with there “ Hi, welcome to RED LOBSTER table or booth today?” Then they sit you in that small waiting area while they get your table ready. Where only a few hard bench await you. There it is… the tank. The tank is a home for all the cute little lobsters to play in with their friends and live. Or should I say live for the time being. I remember it like it was 15 years ago. I was wearing my favorite sweater with pink poke a dots all over the sleeves. This nice young lady came over and asked if I would like to pet a lobster. I was so thrilled. It felt similar to the excitement when opening a gift on Christmas. A blinding over powering bliss illuminated through you. She told me, “Pick out a friend you would like to pet?” I looked all around the tank. All the lobsters were doing their own thing. Some were fighting amongst themselves. Others were sleeping, while some were simply not interested in meeting me. Except one. There was little lobster in the corner that was separated from all the other lobsters. I guess you could have called him the Rudolph of the group since he was half the size of some of the other lobsters. But he was looking right at me. With these little black dots for eyes. He moved towards me as if to take a better look. “He’s the one,” I yelled gleefully at the girl. He even stood still when the girl scooped him out of the tank. Like him and I were meant to met. When he submerged from the tank I knew this creature from the sea was something that had connected with me. Next thing I knew I was eating dinner with my family and my uncle said “tried this you’ll like it.” He presented me this steaming string cheese like fish covered in intoxicating butter. I tried it without questions. A moment later the pure enjoyment of taste my uncle said “ Liked it?” I nodded my head. “Good that little fellow was a special breed from Alaska, what expensive my Changa has,” said me uncle. Then it hit me like falling in a pool filed with cold water. I ate that little lobster the one I thought…

I learned that day to look beyond the obvious and to ask the serious questions like why is that little helpless lobster lying in that tank helpless unable to fight his fate?

No comments:

Post a Comment