A Lobster By Any Other Name...

Lobsters.
Mm mm...butter-dipped, succulent warm meat.
When we first moved here to Naples in 2002,
Jen wanted to celebrate our first night by taking
the four of us to a restaurant, which I won't name.

The advertised special was a 1# lobster for 16.00.
We ordered 4. When the plates arrived, we each
looked at the anorexic lobsters sitting on our
huge white plates--kind of like an island with
only one palm tree...
I was thinking, where is it?

I'd never seen a smaller tail in all of my lobster days--
which amounts to three over my lifetime.
I'd seen bigger tails on shrimp.

I wasn't sure how to attack it.
I wasn't even sure if it wasn't just a faux lobster--
one in disguise, or only the skeleton of one-- minus the meat.

We were all so hungry, so I prodded and picked,
and saw some disgusting green and gray muck that
looked like it came from a space creature's guts.
How would I know that...?

We all managed to get no more than a 1/4
cup's worth. Jen was disappointed, but her
intentions were sweet.
I haven't had a lobster since.

Jen's been in town, from Key West.
She and Paul went fishing for a few days in Stuart.
Her fella, Vince, has a bucket of lobsters from lobstering
in the Keys.
The lobsters are calling, so Jen's heading back
to K W this afternoon.

I'm suddenly having visions of warm, sweet,
butter-dripping meat...