February 14, 2008 :: Igniting the flames of passion. Rrrrrrwwwwwr.

So, it was Valentines day. And the often epicuriously adventurous writer and the musician who often won't drink the milk on the day before its expiration date were approached by the perky Peruvian barmaid and her boyfriend, the camera-shy bass player (the musician's best friend since elementary school) with 40 pounds of oysters and a plan. "We'll grill them!" the perky Peruvian squealed. "We'll lose ten years of our lives in the bathroom," the cautious musician replied. "And besides. The camera-shy bass player and I have a show tonight. And there are no bathrooms on most clubs' stages." The writer's father (the industrious retired music teacher) cheered on via cell phone. "Take pictures," he said. "I've got to see this mountain of sea creatures." the writer acquiesced, tucked some immodium into her pocket for the wary musician, and said, confidently, "fire up the grill!"

So they did. The camera-shy bassist threw slimy mollusk after slimy mollusk on the fire, and the barnacle-laden knuckles of shell spit and hissed, steamed and popped like firecrackers. The perky Peruvian sharpened knives, donned workman's gloves, and chipped at shells like concrete. The musician gingerly took a juicy morsel (with a little lemon, a little tabasco, a little salt) to his lips, and slurped. The writer did the same, letting liquor run down her chin, hurling empties toward a planter. They did it again and again, cracking and splitting, laughing and slurping, four people smelling of sea and embers. The writer and musician's sullen border collie approached, and quickly tucked tail and ran. It was a decadent, frightening scene. Fire and cutlery, sloppy smacking and red, red sauce.

Later, some time was lost in the writer and musician's little cabin's bathroom, but not much. Not so much that any shows were missed, or many oysters were left unshucked. No so much time that anyone thought of the night's smoky, salty scene as anything less than true, muddled, riotous, exquisite, messy, love.

Happy Valentine's Day.

No comments: