Oysters With The Rancher

So this week was my wife’s birthday. For her special day she wanted to go camping with some of our friends to celebrate. I told her that sounded like a great idea, but deep down inside I was dreading it. I just don’t like camping at all. My excuse to avoid camping is to say that black people don’t camp. That comment can only go so far and of course I’m totally wrong about that stereotype. Personally, I just don’t have no other humours way to say that I don’t like camping. I have done it a couple of times before, with each experience I began to hate it.  The last time I went camping, a car ended up in a lake. That was actually one hell of a night that involved some beverages. You can understand why it just doesn’t appeal to me. One thing that I learn in life is you want to make your wife happy, so I had to go against my vow of never camping again. I’m guessing someone upstairs felt my pain because the day that we were suppose to go camping, it rained hard. Camping was cancelled. I was overcome with joy, even if my wife was a little disappointed. So like a good husband, I took my wife out to supper for her birthday. We went to this restaurant called Catch Oyster Bar and Restaurant.

The food there was really good, especially since we are seafood lovers. We started off having a dozen oysters from British Columbia  and Washington State.  I’ll admit that I like my oysters from the east coast, but Washington State had some really good ones. Sticking with an old favourite, I order Blackened Catfish. There is something about that meal, if I am in the mood for fish that is my go to meal. Maybe one day I will change it up. My lovely wife orders some crab legs, I believe that she likes to battle with her meal to eat it. Watching her trying to crack those legs open was quite entertaining. It did put a smile on my face, but I couldn’t watch her struggle anymore. Like a gentleman, I join in the battle with her. I have to admit that it was a battle to crack open those crab legs.

As two foes prepare for battle.
As two foes prepare for battle.

The supper was really special, yet something else made it even more special. A table across from us was an old man who I believe is a rancher. The guy was wearing a cowboy and also I live in Calgary. It just makes sense to me that he is a rancher. The rancher had four women at the table joining in his fun. This was the party table of the restaurant. The man would sing any country song that would come up in his head as the ladies would do the background vocals for him. This person was dropping tons of money on bottles of wine. The table was having such a good time, that they skip dessert and went straight to the shots. My wife and I were a little jealous of the fun, who wouldn’t  want to be part of that action. The guy started taking song requests, I wanted him to sing Garth Brooks “Friends in Low Places”, but wife thought it would be better not to get involved with them. I will admit that it wasn’t a big deal having those loud people next to us, it was kind of entertaining. I just love the fact, when the guy left the women, they talked trash about him.

A wolf on a beer? Yes, please.
A wolf on a beer? Yes, please.

Overall, it was a great restaurant to go to and my wife had an amazing birthday. Personally, I was glad that I didn’t have to go camping. Unfortunately, my wife still wants to go camping and I don’t think I can get out of this one. It might be time to start thinking of a new excuse.

This one is for our crooner, the rancher.

2 thoughts on “Oysters With The Rancher

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