I violated my veggie vow and went to Red Lobster for the 30 shrimp special. Unfortunately, there was a rather loud and loquatious woman seated at the table beside ours. As I tried to enjoy the forbidden bounty of 30, succellent, garlic-grilled shrimp, she proceeded to describe - in vivid, necrotic and undiluted detail - the amputation of 7 of her aging father's toes. I now feel as if I've experienced this man's trauma in every way. I tried to suppress the churning of my innards, however, I couldn't help but make the connection between amputated toes...and shrimp. After shooting her several venomous glares to no avail, I simply picked up a shrimp...and threw it at her. The greasy little morsel nailed the poor cow directly between the peepers and landed *plop* in her pilsner.
I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of my meal in blessed silence, yet I can't help but wonder why I wasn't tossed out on my can.
2007-04-29
14:02:02
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