A Crabby Couple of Coincidences

Late in the summer, it was as good a time as any to hit a beach-town with friends, in search of local food, dance, and beauty in nature. Sadly, at the time that Lydah, Nossie, and Kip had arrived to their destination of the Brinebathed Beach, the marine layer, that puffy, daunting blanket of clouds, was hardly pierced by the sun. The trio groaned and sighed in union, as they finally came to their stop, a small curb near the pier, and nothing but light grey skies filled their view to the whole horizon. Nossie, peering out from the windows of their utterly cramped rental muttered, "Sheesh, you'd think all those happy people would shoo away these clouds." Lydah pawed a loving, pulled punch at him "Oh, honey, come on. It's prettier like this anyway." As the two opened their doors, Kip looked up at her friends, and popped her door open as well.

The kitties all stretched and groaned, a long trip behind them, and hopefully a fantastic day ahead of them. Their doors shut and the three looked around at each other, baffled at how they had a handful a plans for their fun little day-trip, genuinely lacking any order for doing these scattered things in; Nossie felt urged to break the silence and hopefully rectify the confusion. "Okay, er ... well, I remember we wanted to - erm - surf and body-board in the--" A tidal wave of gasps and mortified moans of disappointment rolled out among the beachgoers; a marine rain just sprouted up, making the beach not uninhabitable, but really not the cliche summer scene that typical furs feel comfy with. In seconds, people ran off the beach, with their picnics stuffed hurriedly into baskets, their mp3 players and phones wrapped up in towels, given no dry pockets to otherwise stick them in. As the ladies of the group looked on in interest at the scene, Nossie's jaw was agape at the timing of nature's damper alongside his own words. The scene clearing along, Kip tapped her fingers pensively, also wanting to elaborate on their plans.

Shyly, Lydah mewed out one of the group's earliest ideas, "Purrhaps we could go to the bird observatory just up the hill? Even in the rain a lot of the little feathered cuties still show, out of the fauna in this region." Nossie shrugged and nodded, adding positively, "I mean, it's only three miles up Fairmane Boulevard, and--" As Ploe pointed off in the direction of the nearby street, named after one of the city's own activist "sons," the legions of cars, each packed with the slow-moving, distraught, utterly fleeing beachgoers set his spotty maw agape once again. Woe is plan-making. Lydah shook her head "Er ... That'd be a really long drive, now. Even walking would be faster." She quietly ended her suggestion, worried that she was pushing it too earnestly, quite the opposite of the truth.

Finally, Kip decided chiming in would bring an end to the volley of confused and abruptly impeded ideas; pointing her tail over to a large, semi-ornate, semi-nautical themed building, she mewed to her friends, "We also talked about fresh food, remember, Lydah? There's the best spot in the town, price and freshness." Nossie winced slightly, though not in an act; he actually remembered trying to zone out the girls' talking about seafood - shrimp, bass, and their endless chatter of crab. Sighing, he nodded, hearing out their development of the idea.

The three headed over to the local eatery through the ongoing rain. Although it was certainly within visibility, the path to and along the pier made the walk over to the restaurant a little exhausting, the constant warm rain essentially obliterating the cooling effect of sweat. As Nossie tried to account for his most tolerable experiences with seafood, Lydah and Kip tried to narrow down the choices they had to their favorites.

Lydah pleaded with herself, hoping Nossie would help her decide.

"Well I love shrimp, and I almost never have bass, but, well, I can't feel right saying 'no' to crab."

Kip offered her suggestion with uncontainable enthusiasm "I adore crab! Oh, and it's raining; we have just got to get the jumbo steamer-pot. It's settled. Five pounds of pre-weighed legs and even a few claws as a bonus! It's just crab. I can't finish it by myself, but I'd seriously rather do that than some prix-fixe item or a whole production."

Lydah listened intently, as Nossie simply walked at a slightly faster pace hummed a mind-numbing tune, putting himself in a land solely of turf foods. It was a lovely place, though it didn't last long. Pent-up with excitement, the little kitty burst with her response, "That sounds purrfect! I didn't even feel hungry, but I'd like that. Would you join me?"

********

Meanwhile, in Nossie's head, a mushroom butler, oddly resembling a cubensis mush, sprouted up to greet the cheetahpard, his suit having sprouted up seemingly from the ground itself, just like him. He waved a stem-like arm, revealing a land inhabited with a smorgasbord of the wonders of land borne foods. Meats of all roaming, and even flying, food sources lined one table; teas, coffees, the nectar of all land fruits, and more lined another; pastries of all sizes and shades, made with grain flour, and beet sugar - earthborn treats - lined a large display rack.

It was all a testament to the awesome qualities of turf foods, and for some reason, it felt like it suddenly got sucked away into the distance, Nossie now wobbling on a small raft, off in the ocean, where odorous flavors darted about and violated both senses of smell and taste at once, but there still seemed to be something good hidden in the waters. Something.

*********

Kip cracked a confident smile, and Lydah purred politely, awaiting, not to his initial knowledge, her hubby's reply. Ploe felt himself snap back into reality; roasted wild boar, smoked game hens, unidentifiable cakes - all of it - vanished, and the spotty pillow grinned nervously, a blush flushing his mug, he stammered "I - why - but, if ... ye-- I mean, I coooould. Eh-heh." Kip smirked, and looked over at Lydah who was whining at Nossie and throwing her weight on him, asking that he at least try some of the delicious crab legs.

"I said I could, so - like - I would. Er, I will. I will ... try some c-crab."

"See, sweety? I mean, it's not like you had a real choice, but I'd rather you consent."

"Hey, can one of you get the door? I've gotta pull my phone's battery out. Rain."

As Kip chimed in, the two lovebirds realized in surprise that they, in fact, were already at the restaurant. Nossie pushed forward and grabbed the door, with a big cheesy, toothy grin on his face, so proud of being a gentleman, even if a very awkward one. Nonetheless, Kip slithered on in, followed by Lydah, and Nossie. While the ladies smelled at the air with purrs and heartfelt smiles, the spotty putz, as he was, sniffed tentatively at the smells of the cuisine in place.

"Table for 3?" A quick, likely rushed, waitress flung the quasi-salutation at them.

"Right this way, please."

The service got better quickly; between getting drinks and ordering food, few minutes went by where the trio actually wasn't being "helped" by their waitress. Someone was getting tipped today. In spite of the massive desertion of the beach, several diners were in the Crab's Cradle, as it was called, for lunch. Eventually, a few thickly-robed guys, stocky wolves, for the most part, wheeled over a heavy-looking, shimmering steel pot, complete with the occasional rogue spew of hot water splashing out. The gents removed the lid, chorally sang out "enjoy," and vanished.

There it was: a steamer basket carrying leg after leg of colorful crab, with a claw cobbled in here or there for style, topped off by three crab-crackers and crab forks, hung neatly on the handles of the pot. The buttery sauces seemed to sneak their ways onto the table, but nobody was complaining.

Kip and Lydah cracked open and forked to empty their legs, one at a time. Reluctant and unsure, Nossie slowly busted open a leg and generously dipped a piece of the succulent crab in the sauce, purring in excitement at the utter surprise. As the girls munched down in familiar delight, Ploe was taken back to a time before he'd learned to fear fishy scents and gag at the fragrant flavors. He'd finally found the good that was hidden in the waters, darting around, obscured by, perhaps ... time? Habit? Something.

Although he made sure to let the ladies have the lions' shares, Nossie did genuinely pursue a claw or half-leg, nomming it humbly. Their feast went on, and gradually the cloud-shroud that gave the beach its serious, greyed-over look was pierced by rays of sunshine, as is normal on even the hottest days, for a coastal area. By the time they cracked the last legs, the kitties were hard-pressed to even find a cloud from their window seat.

Their table now littered with flaky meat, shell scraps, and dripped sauces, the kitties had plowed through the biggest single portion the shop had to offer, and bore sated bellies. The bill was higher than a single-diner portion, and just barely over a two-diner portion, in cost. In short, this was a good turnout to the start of a long day.

As a group arising was made, in synch, each of these diners stretched, and made their way to the front, to pay their bill. With a push of both doors, Nossie, Lydah, and Kip walked their way along the pier, back toward the beach, and their starting point. Whichever of their other plans the felines would act on next, only convenience and coincidence would tell.