Saturday, September 8, 2007

A somewhat related post.

On the glorious subject of turtles....

Today, I sat and had a discussion with a student about the wierd stuff he likes to eat. Priding himself on being "a good old country boy from Oklahoma" he listed a menu of items that clearly conjured an image of him running around with a homemade spear and stabbing at things he might find appetizing. One of these items was turtle sandwiches.

Although thoroughly disgusted with the conversation and at myself for encouraging it, I ventured further. No one states they like turtle sandwiches without piquing my interest.

I asked him what exactly went into a turtle sandwich, to which he gave me the "are you a complete fucking idiot?" look. Funny, considering what he had been telling me all afternoon, here he was disgusted with me and my apparent stupidity.

He didn' t give me a response.

I pushed him further, asking him if he made the sandwich on whole wheat or white and whether he liked tomato or lettuce on his turtle hoagie.

Still no biting.

We sat in an awkward silence for a while. Sometime later he gave an exasperated sigh and said, "Well, I don't know. I just toast some bread, crack open a turtle and butter its guts onto the toast." The kind of exasperated sigh that said I should have known that already.

Moral of the story: I'm always the last to know.

-the end-

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