July 6th, 2016.
Miami, Florida.
12:01 p.m.
Breathing deep of the salty air, Percy Humboldt raised a silver-plated fork, sighed, and took the first bite of a meal he’d waited five decades to
eat—
“Mmmm! God, that’s good!”
Percy’s wife, Ida, looked disgusted.
“Ah!” said a dapper bald waiter to Percy’s right. “The gentleman approves?”
“Damn right!” Percy replied, winking at Ida. “Best three grand I ever spent!”
“You have a discerning palette, Mr. Humboldt. Delphinidae a la Provencale. Fresh from this very sea; prepared by our own Chef Grigori.”
“Well, my compliments to Chef Greg!”
The waiter grinned. “Excellent, sir. Now, if you require nothing more, I shall take my leave.”
“Oh, by all means, go on break. This is tremendous!”
“Enjoy your lunch, then.”
“Mmmm-hmm!” Percy moaned around another bite.
Lips pursed, the waiter turned to Ida. “Madam.”
Ida forced a smile.
With an expression both curt and smug, the waiter turned on his heels and disappeared below deck.
“Really, Ida,” Percy said, shaking his head. “Can’t you just relax and have a good time?’
“No. No, I can’t.”
Percy frowned. “Will you look around, Mrs. Humboldt? Isn’t this great?”
Ida shrugged. They’d dined on yachts before, but never quite this luxurious. Of course, she hadn’t ordered anything on this floating restaurant. No one in their right mind would. So she’d settled on a cheese and cracker plate, with a white wine spritzer at no extra charge.
“The scenery’s fine, Percy.”
“Well, look at this gorgeous meal!”
Ida looked. Didn’t want to, but she did. Atop a bed of jasmine rice, surrounded by sauteed vegetables, lay a thick slab of pink meat. The casual observer would’ve mistaken it for salmon or swordfish, but Ida knew better.
Boy, did she.
“The meal’s what’s making me sick.”
Swallowing another bite, Percy smiled. “You sure it’s not just the motion of the ocean?”
“Oh, God.”
“Ha!” Chortling, Percy threw back his head. A big man, his jowls and neck shuddered with each breath. “See what I did there, Ida? I did that on porpoise!”
Ida sipped her wine. “Gong! You’re through, Mr. Humboldt.”
Still laughing, Percy reached for his large glass of beer. Ida snickered as he guzzled half of it in three swallows, then belched.
“That does it. I think I’m gonna write a poem about you.”
“Yeah? You mean like, uh, Shakespeare or somethin’?”
“Um, more like a Homerian epic. I have the perfect title: Rhyme Of The Ancient Glutton.”
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A revised version of “Meal of a Lifetime” was featured in Empty Sink Publishing, Issue #15.
Read it here: http://emptysinkpublishing.com/fiction/meal-of-a-lifetime/
Thank you for reading!
JLR
