That’s Odd

I’m a romantic kind of a guy. For real. I buy flowers on my darling’s birthday, I try to find something nice for her for Christmas, and if nothing else, I get her a card and some flowers on Valentine’s Day.  One year, 2024 I think it was, I went all out and took her to a fancy dinner at a swanky beach restaurant for the “Seafood Feast for Two” Valentine’s Day deal.  Two people, $70, how could I pass that up? 

That night we put on some nice clothes and clean socks and everything and went to our local beach restaurant.  Although it was night and we couldn’t see the ocean, we could hear it, so we knew it was there.  Interestingly enough, we were able to get a parking spot within about 50 feet of the restaurant so that was good. We settled in, ordered the seafood platter deal, and about half an hour later, this huge tray arrived at our table. We we were giddy with excitement.

I took a scallop, then my beloved took a scallop.  Then I again and she again.  And then there was one, one scallop left.  Hmmm… This was going to be an issue.  What were we supposed to do, cut it in half? Or should one of us be gracious and offer it to the other? My sense of chivalry kicked in and I did my husbandly duty and let my wife take the last scallop. Fine, take the damn thing. 

Then I ate two prawns and she ate two prawns.  Big bastards, too.  Big and orange.  Who eats TWO prawns?  Me, that’s who.  Because she got number five, that’s why.

There were 9 green clams, each with a tiny bit of meat inside.  They don’t really count but in a sense, yes, they do matter because there were nine of them. Nine, ffs.

There were seven bits of fish and seven strips of calamari. Seven and seven. Do the math.

In a final cruel act of culinary sadism, there were three oysters in the centre of the platter. 

I didn’t count the fries, I knew there’d be 45 or some stupid shit so I took a few and let my wife have the rest.

Blah.