You Gonna Eat That?

Not so long ago I was working on a project in Thailand. I tell you what, those Thais may know a lot about growing rice and shooting ping pong balls but they don’t know shit about raising cows. Those cows over there look more like giant Chihuahuas that somebody picked up at the animal shelter. I actually think that they don’t slaughter cows there. They just wait for them to die of starvation then cut em up. If you ever try Thai steak (that’s steak, not stick) you’ll see what I mean.

So after this project my buddy and me went to the beach down at this island called Phuket. I called the place “Fuck-It” the whole time I was there but I later learned that it’s really called “Poo-Ket”. I think “Fuck-It” is a better name because that’s about all I said once I got there…

Buddy: “Oh, man, I’m going to puke if I have another shot.”
Luther Ray: “Fuck it. Drink up, cowboy.”

Chica #1: “Me no condom.”
Luther Ray: “Fuck it.”

Buddy: “We should head to the airport or we’ll miss our flight.”
Luther Ray: “Fuck it.”

Buddy: “It’s the boss on the phone. He’s asking where we are and why we didn’t show up for work.”
Luther Ray: “Tell him ‘Fuck It’ and ‘Fuck it’.”

Anyway, one night me and my buddy took a couple young ladies we had met, or rented (I wasn’t sure yet) to dinner. Of course since it’s an island we had seafood. At the restaurants there they put all the fish, shrimp, oysters, crabs, etc. on ice in front of the restaurant. You pick what you want. It’s kind of like fishing if, like me, you fish by the dam floodgates. Just cast your line where the water sprays out of the dam and you’re bound to snag something. You can save a lot of money on bait that way.

So we chose a fish and the guy says “How do you want it cooked?” This kind of threw me because being from The South I thought there was only one way to cook a fish. Batter it and throw it in the Fry Daddy. So I figured this was some kind of hoity toity restaurant and told him “medium.” Turns out these Thai people have all sorts of ways to cook fish. Sometimes they even steam them. Weird. I mean, how would you steam a hushpuppy?

Turns out they didn’t have hushpuppy’s either.

So after some engaging conversation with our lady friends… “I like you. Where you come from? How long you stay in Thailand?” … the fish arrived. The first thing that struck me about this fish was that its head was still on. And judging by the grimace on his face, he was not very happy when they dropped him in the Fry Daddy (or whatever they use over there). That fish looked mean! Like Sinatra after too many highballs mean. During the whole meal it was like this fish was staring me down saying “That all you got? Come on, mutha fucka! I will kick yo ass … IN HELL!”

I’m not the kind of guy that’s easily intimidated by a deep-fried fish … head or no head … so I ate my fair share of the little bastard.

After the meal we’re all sitting there and our lady friends keep looking at the fish then looking at us then looking at the fish… Luckily, my buddy speaks a little Thai. Turns out they were wondering if we were going to eat the eyeballs! Uhhhh, knock yourself out ladies. And they did.

But how polite was that? I guess the Thai version of Emily Post has a section on how to deal with those embarrassing dinner parties where you have too many people and not enough fish eyes.