Three Dead Fish, a Gun and a Stripper

When I was a lot younger, in my early 20's, I wasn't so good at relationships. (Not that I am any good now, but now I don't have relationships.) This weakness of mine is symbolized by dead fish.

Back then, I dated a tall woman named Cindy. She was 6 feet tall and very pretty. So pretty that later I found out she was a stripper, and a very good one. I even went with her a few times to parties as her "bouncer" (even though I had very few muscles). I actually I served more as the guy who drank beer and sat in a room and counted the huge pile the one dollar bills she would come in after her dances and drop on the table in front of me. After, some big beefy guys would come in and buy the ones off me and say, "Thanks, dude. Right on. Pardoo." But that all came later, after the fish incident.

Well before I found out she was a stripper, we dated and got along pretty well. She worked at a video store. She had shoulder length brown hair and a very big, pretty mouth and smile. Her body, despite her height, was phenomenal. We looked good together because I was taller than she was. She liked me so much she bought me fish, three fish in fact, each of which were very ugly bright orange and had huge eyeballs. I guess she thought that they were cute, having the big eyeballs. (In fact, she had kind of big eyeballs, but not that big, not like the fish.) Maybe she bought me the fish to suggest I needed to open my eyes and see the real her, not just her outward beauty. But probably, she just liked fish. I never owned a fish in my life, and back then, as a young guy, I was probably not the best person to give fish to, as a present.

So she gave me these fish, and some of that little flaky fish food you're supposed to sprinkle into the bowl and you never know how much because once you do sprinkle a little in the water, it hardly looks like anything, so you tap a few more helpings in there and think, Right on, dudes. Chow down! Pardoo on those flakes! But they just kept eating, those little bulgy-eyed freaks, no matter how much you give them.

I fed them a few times, but then it was Christmas time and school was out and I went to my parents house for a few weeks. I forgot about the fish. And I know this sounds bad, but I forgot about her, too. Like I said, though, I was not good at relationships, and not very good with fish, either. I should have at least called her. So when I get back, I get a call from her. She's mad, very mad, and wants to know why I haven't called her. I've been out of town for a few weeks, I said. Oh, she said? Tell me, she said, are the fish dead? Yes, I said. I heard a click.

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