Friday, February 12, 2010

Blackened Catfish

I ordered the blackened catfish as they ripped the neon cactus and Stetson from the wall. Background sounds of crashing glass, chopping wood. A bulldozer’s rumble as my meal arrived, sawdust snowing down. Excellent as ever, I told the hardhatted waiter, one hand a forkful of fish, black beans and rice, the other a dark beer. Too bad you’re closing—where will I go for southwestern dining?

A wrecking ball shattered the wall, swung overhead. I looked around at the memories. The bar, devoid of liquor bottles and stools, where I held court with friends on weekends. One table where I proposed but was denied; another that hosted two first dates—both covered in debris. The front steps, now just broken bricks, where I tripped the first time in.

I ate slowly, savoring this last meal, as the ceiling became a cloudless sky. Brick and wood pieces drizzled down. Finishing the last bites, I asked about dessert. You’ve been a solid patron over the years, the waiter said, but now we must depart.

So I paid and left, as the last pieces rained down, the crew outside looking at me as if I were a funeral mourner. Progress, a man in hardhat said as I walked by. Hardly, I mumbled. The crumbled structure burped a cloud of dust. I watched, the beer and catfish tastes buzzing in my mouth, soon to fade away.

15 comments:

  1. A very surreal tale.

    I, too, have been saddened by favorite places being razed in the name of progress.

    That meal sounded very delicious!

    "...tastes buzzing in my mouth..." is vivid. That's what taste does, all right!

    Very tasty writing here.

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  2. Sometimes I wonder if it's just age that makes me resist change, but not all change is for the better.
    He was a funeral mourner. Nice, descriptive writing in this. I was waving the sawdust out of my fish. :)

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  3. This was a very vivid short. I appreciated how you described the destruction of the place around him as he calmly finished his meal.

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  4. I'm at the point that this feels like my whole life. The last time I went to NYC, I spent over an hour looking for the ghost of a Polish restaurant from my past. Anyway, this was great. You totally avoid sentimentality. The last burp by the building is too brilliant. And now I am starving for some of this food.

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  5. This is wonderful. Great idea and the pace is fantastic.

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  6. Good piece. Reminds me of my life. Time plods on.

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  7. I'll have the table by the ex-kitchens please...

    Good stuff

    marc nash

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  8. The image of the waiter with the hardhat is fantastic! He's right, progress does not always equal change. Now, I must go look up a recipe for blackened catfish (yum) Nice one!

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  9. excellent line where the crumbling structure burps. The perfect ending to the last meal.

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  10. This reads like a dream to me Christian. And specifically, it reads like the dream of a condemned man - a last supper, with the destruction abstracted to a fondly remembered setting. Lovely descriptive piece too.

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  11. Man, he must be a beloved patron to let him eat there while the walls come tumblin' down. I wish they would have let me have my last meal at some of my now-gone favorite restaurants. Perfect poignant short!

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  12. This felt more like homage than mourning.

    Your stories are always sharp and make me feel like there's so much more whispering underneath the surface. I love stopping by; I know I'll always be entertained with an original perspective.

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  13. This packs a punch. Tight and vivid. I could picture it in slow motion as the walls crumbled. Nicely done!

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  14. Thanks to all who read and posted comments.! I'm happy that you stopped by!

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