Sunday, October 22, 2006
Nature Decides
So today was the first day in my entire life that I have touched a tropical fish in the wild. And wouldn’t you know it, the very first wild tropical fish I encounter is a smart aleck.
I was down at the beach, minding my own business, hanging out with the seagulls, when I saw something in the water. Upon closer examination, I realized it was a fish, floating on its side, fin flapping feverishly as it tried to upright itself and swim back out to the deeper waters.
Eventually the fish was close enough to shore that I could grab it. The fish where I come from are slippery and smooth and hard to hold on to. This fish had skin that was rough, kind of like sandpaper and while it wasn’t hard to hold on to, it wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world. Still, I grabbed him and looked him over before tossing him back out to the ocean so that he could swim off.
Slice!!!!
His tail sliced through my hand as I threw him and blood started to flow. Hmph! Isn’t that gratitude? Well, I learned something today now didn’t I? Although they are beautiful, (this one had a blue fin on his back), they can hurt.
I watched as the fish plopped back in to the water only to discover, with much dismay, that the waves were bringing him back in because again, he was on his side, one fin working over time and was not swimming correctly. So I waited until the water brought him in and pulled him out again.
This time I had a discussion with him. I asked him what the hell was wrong with him, didn’t he want to live? “Get your fish ass back in to the deep ocean where you belong! Do you not see these seagulls here? They want to eat you! So stop acting ridiculous!”
He just stared up at me.
He didn’t even put up a fight. Again, the fish where I come from will throw themselves a nice, fat hissy fit if you bring them out of the water but this one just laid there, in my hands, and said, “Dude.....”
Of course I don’t speak fish so I may have misunderstood because I thought he said, “Dude, like you are so right! I’m such a doofus! Please, throw me back in and I promise that this time I’ll swim away and stop causing you angst. You come here, to the beach, to relax and put things in to perspective and then I come by and mess that all up. I’m sorry...I won’t do it again. I’m ready to be thrown back in now.”
During this second attempt to beach himself, the fish had gone down the shore a bit so that by the time I got him out of the seaweed and churning sands, I was a good 30 feet from my stuff. So I scolded him as I walked back to my things, stopping every once in awhile to dunk him under water so he could catch a breath. I reached my place in the sand, grabbed my hat, (I am NOT getting cut again!), and placed Mr. Fish inside. This time I was going to throw him hard and far and then we all could go back to our business.
I ignored the seagulls who were spitting and cursing at me, “Yo bitch! You’re taking our lunch!!!!!” and hurled Mr. Fish back out in to the ocean.
He crashed back into the sea, resurfaced and resumed his irritating side ways dance. I told him to forget it. I was not saving his sorry butt again. He was on his own! I threatened to sic the seagulls on him if he didn’t straighten up.
Little bastard called my bluff and sure enough, I repeated this process another time.
After I threw him back in again, I decided that if he was going to committ suicide by throwing himself on shore, then that’s what would happen because he was not getting anymore sypmathy from me. I told him as much. “Forget it! I’m spent! You’re on your own!”
The seagulls flew around, some landing in the water next to him, just waiting, beaks clacking eagerly. And still he lay on his side, one fin flipping hopelessly about. I decided that maybe Nature had other plans for Mr. Fish. I tried. Right? I TRIED! I am only one person! I can only do so much! I will not feel guilty over a stupid fish!
And then Mr. Fish righted himself and swam back out to the deeper waters. “Dude! Just kidding! I can totally swim perfectly! Sorry for making you worry! See ya!”
Ass.
