After spending the day being pampered, we decided to treat ourselves to some fine dining in Vail. As soon as we were seated, MyFace announced, “I think I’m going to have a grown-up beverage.” I decided to join her and Q opted to stick to red wine.
The entree selection and decision was not as easy as the beverage. After much reviewing of the menu, we each decided to get a different entree. I opted for the rainbow trout. “Just so you know, that is a full fish and you will have to fillet it to eat it,” our server advised me. “Fillet it?” I asked, “Yes. Cut it through the belly with a knife. You still want it?” she asked. “Yes,” I replied, sllightly scared of what might soon be before me.
My plate arrived and, as stated, it was a full fish. “Stop looking. I found Nemo,” I told Q and MyFace. I then grabbed my butter knife (the only knife given to me) and made an incision across the belly of the fish. “I have never filleted at the table. I could not do that,” MyFace said and added, “At least they removed the head and beady eyes.” “Head is still there,” Q advised. “You know what we used to say in high school? ‘Fuck ’em and feed ’em fish heads.’ That saying never really made any sense until now. Oh, look, you get tail too,” MyFace said. “I love getting breaded tail,” I replied. MyFace finished her margarita and said, “I’m cut off.” “You’re both cut off,” Q informed us. “Fuck ’em,” I thought, took another sip of my Basil Berry and then, ate the fish head. Not really, but I came extremely close.