The morning was bright, the sun floated high, the sky was clear and the breeze was relaxing.
After a long week of being overworked, underpaid, and fed up with customers I was free. I was doing what I loved to do when I wanted to wash away my piled up mental garbage. Fishing. It's my mind spa. It could be off a pier, off a boat, or in the water with a speargun. Fishing is my thing. I love it.
It had been some time since I hung out with my good friend Albert so I had invited him along. There are many Albert's in my life. Tall Albert. Fat Albert. Buff Albert. Coffee Albert. Today I was spending time with buff Albert. A once-puny kid who started downing planet sized amounts of protein and spending countless hours at the gym that had now become Captain America's little brother. I'd known Albert almost all my life and it seemed like this weekend would be a good time to catch up.
There we were with line and reel tossing bait into the ocean off of the jetty in Haulover Inlet. Having beers, talking shit, and enjoying some quality time. Bromance at its finest. And then my line hooked, "I got something!" I battled for a couple of minutes and brought in a nice sized snapper. A pleasantly familiar catch. I was stoked to have caught something. And then the reels went awfully silent.
Waves crashed against the rocks, the sun slowly toasted our skin and the breeze kept us cool. Skin cancer in the making never felt better.
In his boredom Albert started tossing rocks into the ocean and upset I yelled, "Yo Albert stop tossing rocks into the ocean you're scaring the fish!" Shaking his head and rolling his eyes he sighed and sat down looking out towards the ocean. As I gazed outward I get a nice cold splash on the back of my neck. My meathead friend had now reverted to tossing ice cubes at me in an attempt to alleviate his growing boredom. My Saturday morning bliss was starting to taste a bit sour.
A couple of minutes go by and I get another splash on top of my head and think to myself, "This guy bro, can't keep still for more than an hour." As the water dripped down the side of my cheek towards my mouth I licked it off. And that's when it hit me. The saltiness. The god-forsaken highly-concentrated, voluminous amount of saltiness.
I had just licked a very generously sized swab of wet Pelican shit right into my mouth.
Salty, warm, horrendous, Pelican shit.
Albert saw the whole thing happen and the moment he saw the horrid look of agony and disgust on my face he exploded into laughter.
If you've never tasted Pelican shit before, let's just say it's not something I ever, ever want to experience again.