tray piled high with rocky, grey oyster clusters and without a word, he turned and walked away. Miss Margaret came to the table with a roll of paper towels, two oyster knives, some cocktail sauce, and a cup overflowing with horseradish. She also had a bottle of hot sauce and two more beers. She plunked the beers in the bucket and grabbed our empties. “Call me when you’re ready for more. Charlie is already puttin’ ‘em away as fast as we can get ‘em to him.”
We each grabbed a cluster , picked up our oyster knives, and went to work. If you’ve never eaten oysters like this, it can be a tricky. You have to stick the tip of the knife into the joint just right to separate the shells so you can get at the oyster. Since I grew up here, I had no problem. I was going to give Alex some pointers, but when I turned to help him, I saw him opening them with a speed most locals would envy.
I wiped my mouth with a paper towel and threw it in the hole with a number of empty oyster shells. “You’re pretty good at that,” I said to Alex. “Some people can’t ever get the hang of it.”
“You should have seen me the first few time s I did it,” he told me with a laugh as he wiped hot sauce off of his chin. “I cut my fingers up pretty badly. I stabbed myself with my oyster knife I don’t know how many times. Until Miss Margaret showed me what to do, I thought that eating these things was some kind of a trick the locals played on tourists. But practice makes perfect.”
With that , he popped open a huge shell, dug the mammoth oyster out, and with the tip of his knife, he offered it to me. I opened my mouth and let him drop it on my tongue. The flavor explosion that happens when you bite into a big one is hard to describe. It’s like chewing seawater.
“ Mmm…I haven’t had anything that nice in mouth since last night,” I told Alex with a husky whisper.
“I just hope that you don’t try to get into my pants with an oyster knife,” he said , laughing.
We dug back into the dwindling pile of clusters, pausing only for a refreshing sip of beer. The light humidity, combined with the horseradish and hot sauce, gave my forehead a light sheen of sweat. Alex tore off a fresh paper towel and gently wiped my face. It was a sweet gesture that showed how tender and attentive he could be.
Miss Margaret had another (thankfully smaller) pile of clusters delivered to us, and we made short work of them. Our trash can was almost full with shells when we finally threw in the paper towel. We leaned our shoulders together for support and finished the last of our beer. Alex put his arm around me, and I relaxed into his embrace. We sat there enjoying the closeness. The heat brought out his manly scent, and I could feel his bicep bulge against my back.
“Man , that was good,” he said, patting his stomach. “We’ve got to come back here soon.”
I loved the way he made us sound like a couple, always including me in his plans. It seemed so right being together. I didn’t want it to end, but I knew that after I told him about my problem, it very easily could. I was nervous at the thought that our first real date might be our last. I was just about to say something when Miss Margaret shuffled up to the table.
“Did y’all get enough to eat?” she asked with a big smile, clearly seeing that we were stuffed.
“Yes ma’am,” I said, “More than enough.”
“When you’re dealing with oysters, its always bette r to have too many than too few.” She giggled, pushing everything disposable into the big hole in the middle of the table. “Here’s the damage, darlin’. I threw in a couple of beers so it won’t be so long until you come back.”
Alex looked at the bill and dug a handful of money out of his pocket. He shuffled out what looked like way too many $20 bills and handed them to Miss Margaret. “I don’t know whether to thank you, Miss Margaret, or call the cops and have you arrested for attempted murder with a
We each grabbed a cluster , picked up our oyster knives, and went to work. If you’ve never eaten oysters like this, it can be a tricky. You have to stick the tip of the knife into the joint just right to separate the shells so you can get at the oyster. Since I grew up here, I had no problem. I was going to give Alex some pointers, but when I turned to help him, I saw him opening them with a speed most locals would envy.
I wiped my mouth with a paper towel and threw it in the hole with a number of empty oyster shells. “You’re pretty good at that,” I said to Alex. “Some people can’t ever get the hang of it.”
“You should have seen me the first few time s I did it,” he told me with a laugh as he wiped hot sauce off of his chin. “I cut my fingers up pretty badly. I stabbed myself with my oyster knife I don’t know how many times. Until Miss Margaret showed me what to do, I thought that eating these things was some kind of a trick the locals played on tourists. But practice makes perfect.”
With that , he popped open a huge shell, dug the mammoth oyster out, and with the tip of his knife, he offered it to me. I opened my mouth and let him drop it on my tongue. The flavor explosion that happens when you bite into a big one is hard to describe. It’s like chewing seawater.
“ Mmm…I haven’t had anything that nice in mouth since last night,” I told Alex with a husky whisper.
“I just hope that you don’t try to get into my pants with an oyster knife,” he said , laughing.
We dug back into the dwindling pile of clusters, pausing only for a refreshing sip of beer. The light humidity, combined with the horseradish and hot sauce, gave my forehead a light sheen of sweat. Alex tore off a fresh paper towel and gently wiped my face. It was a sweet gesture that showed how tender and attentive he could be.
Miss Margaret had another (thankfully smaller) pile of clusters delivered to us, and we made short work of them. Our trash can was almost full with shells when we finally threw in the paper towel. We leaned our shoulders together for support and finished the last of our beer. Alex put his arm around me, and I relaxed into his embrace. We sat there enjoying the closeness. The heat brought out his manly scent, and I could feel his bicep bulge against my back.
“Man , that was good,” he said, patting his stomach. “We’ve got to come back here soon.”
I loved the way he made us sound like a couple, always including me in his plans. It seemed so right being together. I didn’t want it to end, but I knew that after I told him about my problem, it very easily could. I was nervous at the thought that our first real date might be our last. I was just about to say something when Miss Margaret shuffled up to the table.
“Did y’all get enough to eat?” she asked with a big smile, clearly seeing that we were stuffed.
“Yes ma’am,” I said, “More than enough.”
“When you’re dealing with oysters, its always bette r to have too many than too few.” She giggled, pushing everything disposable into the big hole in the middle of the table. “Here’s the damage, darlin’. I threw in a couple of beers so it won’t be so long until you come back.”
Alex looked at the bill and dug a handful of money out of his pocket. He shuffled out what looked like way too many $20 bills and handed them to Miss Margaret. “I don’t know whether to thank you, Miss Margaret, or call the cops and have you arrested for attempted murder with a
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