Monday, September 06, 2010

I love oysters so much

And yet, with that happy title, I must say that there are no oysters here. Or, rather, I've had two oysters in Flagstaff at a place called Buster's which is part Denny's, part country club and really confused about what a seafood platter should offer. I'm still wiping the smell of the smoked salmon off my hands. The two oysters weren't bad but it's hard to enjoy them when you know eating them is probably a bad idea. Oysters in the middle of the desert, in a town where planes fly only to Phoenix, not to the oyster-bearing ocean are probably a bad idea.
We went to Lake Powell.

[Redacted for bad attitude. Val did have a nice bikini.]
We got home Tuesday afternoon at 1:30 just in time for me to teach at 3:00. Some of the teaching was clear and precise. Some of it was a little bit hazy. Like the rest of my mind.

The next night, Wednesday, the trace of the trip , like zebra mussels stuck to the bottom of your boat, was revealed. We went to dinner since we had a coupon and no food in the house. We sat down. We ordered edamame. Zoe laid back against her chair and then sat up quickly. And then she threw up all the edamame she'd just put down. Waitress! Actually, first I used every red, non-absorbent napkin I could find to sop up the goo. Then I asked the waitress if we could get our order to go. Erik took Z to the car and stripped her down and waited for me and Max to come out with dinner, after I took the napkins back to the kitchen so the server didn't have to touch them. Still. I don't think there's tip enough in the world. We hurried home, got Zoe in the bath and sat down to eat. Nothing better than sushi post vomit-cleansing.

Two days later, Max. Same thing. All night. Poor baby. We missed the fair but we did manage to have people over for dinner. We warned them about Max's stomach bug and Zoe's incubating head-cold. They came anyway because they're adventurous, disaster-ready souls. Perhaps we'll take them boating next time although the next boat I go on will be on a boat that heads toward an oyster bed. And a real bed. And a real bathroom.


P said...

Wow! What a great post. If those were the sleeping conditions, my room would have been the floating cot. I think I'll wait for the yacht.

Nik said...

P, the whole boat was a cot. Which rhymes with yacht. But a cot is indeed not a yacht. Also, I might have drunk a little too much of the water, if you know what I mean.

Valerie said...

I have a very different experience of the trip. One that involves wearing a bikini? WTF?

What Now? said...

Goodness, you really know how to start the new term, don't you? I hope that the rest of the semester is a breeze after this beginning!