Friday, February 03, 2006

Now... Do You Really Want To Know What It Is?

It's my wife's birthday today. (((HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Squisha!))) That said... EVERYTHING I had planned for this evening has fallen apart piece by piece, and now I'm a little more than disappointed, not to mention just a wee bit pissed off about the way everything has turned out. Luckily, her mother offered to take her out for her birthday dinner this evening, otherwise we would have sat at home, me frustrated, the kids disappointed, and my wife pissed because I am frustrated and the kids are disappointed about this shitty turn of events. But we're not, and she's not, and we have come back from a decent evening out.
For her birthday dinner, she chose the Rainforest cafe. Granted, it's not Wolfgang Puck's, but it's a place we as a family hadn't been to since our Disneyland trip two-plus years ago. So anyway, she chooses the Rainforest Cafe, and the kids are excited. They really dig the animatronics and faux storms. My wife likes the food. Me, I just like how it reminds me of our Disneyland trip. It isn't long before we have drinks in hand, and menu's are being flipped through. As usual, everyone else knows what they want, except for me. I'm too busy making snide references to the Macadamian Crusted Snapper and my mother-in-law to decide on something worthwhile, so when it comes time to place our order, I am scrambling for something that remotely sounds good. I choose an appetizer plate - you know, a little of this, a little of that. That'll teach me to fuck around when I should be ordering.
Hold on! Let's back this train up for a moment so I can explain something. I admit I must be a tad naive, because before this evening I NEVER knew what exactly Calamari was. For some Goddamn reason I thought it was some form of pasta (C'mon, get the laughing over with. Ha-ha, he-he, ho-ho... for fuck's sake, feel better now? May I continue?) Anyway, I order this fucking plate that has some truly weird, but fantastically tasting shit on it, as well as one side chock full of my mind's pasta.
Plates come. Plates are passed out. We dig in. First bite I have is of the fucking Calamari. "Not bad," I think to myself. "It's not pasta, as I thought it would be, but not bad." I move around sampling a little of this, a little of that... when my wife leans over and asks me, "Now, do you really want to know what it is?"
FUCK YES, NO I DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT IS. After a few moments of borderline grossout (you can't not be grossed out when someone refers to your food in this manner) I lean over to her and whisper, what is it? So, she tells me. It's fucking squid! Fuck me runnin' with scissors and a herd of bull on my ass. Fucking squid. I thought I was going to die. I wasn't, but I sure as fuck wanted to. Squid!
(((Gag! Choke! Swallow! Repeat!)))
What I want to know is, why didn't she say anything to begin with? I mean, she could've saved me the time and nausea, and her mother the cash, because I wasted every last piece of that fried shit. (Yeah, I know there are starving children in this world, but I bet if you told them what you had to offer, they'd run in disgust as fast, if not faster, than I did.)
Fuck all! Squid? I mean, really... come on... squid? Thanks a fucking butt-load, Squisha! I hope you enjoyed your fucking birthday, because it's on like Donkey Kong, beotch!


Blogger Juanita J. Sanchez said... is where it pays to be a midwestern girl, completely unfamiliar with squid as anything other than calamari. I mean, I knew calamari was squid, but so what? Squid. What's that? Some kind of tasty fish, that's what! Yummy! I hereby resolve NOT to google squid and take a look because I prefer to continue on in blissful ignorance and order calamari any old time. I presume you're not into escargot or caviar?

3:30 AM  
Blogger the depressed nurse said...

So you told whose birthday it is in the post.....:)

7:29 AM  

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