Experience-"The Time has Come, the Walrus Said..."

            Gross.  So gross.  Hate you Brad, oh my god so gross!  This…even before going into it, just…so gross.  Even the thought of it was just beyond disgusting, and the actuality of it somehow managed to be worse.  The roommate and I decided to make a day of it, hitting the comic shop up in the afternoon (aside:  Got you something, Brad), then heading over to a local grill—which by the way, one of the most beautiful dining rooms I’ve ever seen in a place so reasonably priced and centrally located—where we knew they served the “delicacies,” followed by drinks and a movie at a local Cinema/Bar where we drank beer, ate onion rings, and watched one of the most amazingly terrible pieces of cinematic abortions to be green-lit, ‘Burlesque.’  Seriously, the film may have actually been harder to sit through than the 10 damn oysters.

            Anyway, we get there and the place is empty—to be fair, we got there five minutes after it opened—and take our seat at one of the tables in the ‘sports bar’ styled area.  It was a little cutesy/kitsch for my taste, but the view of the main dining room was so gorgeous I didn’t care.  Roomie and I both agreed this was a place we’d have to come back to later with our meat-eating friends (only two vegetarian friendly options on the menu, none vegan, and both were starters/salads), and we could just order deserts and liquor.  And this is where all the pleasantness of the experience stops.

            The waitress comes up, very friendly and sweet, to see if we know what we want, we don’t, but I’ve already noticed the specials board.  We came on the perfect night, apparently, as Wednesday was their oyster special, ½ of an order of 6 or 12.  I inform her I’ll need a few minutes but know I’d like an order of 12 oysters, raw.  She brings them out, and I have to just stare at them for a good 2-3 minutes before I can muster up the courage to actually try one of the slimy little bastards.  Using the little fork, I pull one off its half-shell, and pop it in my mouth.  I didn’t instantly start gagging, but the texture, flavor, sight, sound, and smell of it all made my stomach start flipping.  Add to that the fact I haven’t had animal-based protein in almost a year, and my stomach was not a happy camper.  I only managed to get through the other 9 with ample use of the horseradish, red sauce, and crackers, and an order of double Jameson neat from the bar.

            The whole experience was unpleasant and somewhat embarrassing.  I can only imagine what the other patrons/staff thought as I grimaced my way through 10 of the little buggers.  But I did it—something Brad admits he hasn’t even done.  Now, may I never again suffer through such a gastronomic torture.