The dangers of shellfish

There are words, phrases, quotes that you often bandy around with your comrades. These often have a kind of special meaning that is not readily understood by the masses. It's what makes friendships special, and gives you that oh-so-unique feeling that your lives (compared to anyone else's) would make an awesome sitcom.

One spirited night in Rio during Carnival, amongst a group of people I did not know particularly well, conversation somehow veered towards the subject of "crabs", or as they are more formally known, pubic lice. As the conversation became more and more lively, one boisterous young lady boldly announced, "My sister-in-law had crabs!"

The silence in the room was as deaf as Helen Keller. Was this it? Was I, the King of Awkward Moments, finally getting to witness someone else's awkgasm, or brain fart, where statements are made without a solitary thought? Would I finally have my very own comrade-in-awk?

Alas, no. She instead followed it up with this qualifier:  "Well, I should say EX-sister-in-law. My brother dumped her cheating ass!"

Without a single moment of thought (perhaps riding high on my false sense of safety), I misguidedly raised/blurted the following toast:

"TO A SHELLFISH FREE FAMILY!"

Do you know that moment when mid-sentence you recognise that not only does what you're saying not make any sense, that what you're saying is perhaps offensive, immature, and disgusting, that what you're saying is going to leave the worst first impression in history? I do. Well.

My lips and tongue were powerless to stop the nonsense spurting forth from the metaphorical loins of my vocal chords. It was out there. It was done.

I hung my head hoping in that exact instance somebody had perhaps started a loud coughing fit or distraction to cover musky scent of my awkgasm. Of course, I've never been that lucky, but call me an optimist.

I watched the face of the girl who made the original statement with the kind of intensity usually reserved for David Attenborough when observing some kind of rare and exotic pink skinned, hard-nosed salamander. I observed as my toast registered on each of her facial features. First the eyes, the slight twitch of recognition. Then the forehead, the furrow of the brow. Then the mouth, the upwards turn of a grin.

Wait, what?! A grin? Is this... validation?

Then, the unexpected: A return of the toast! "TO A SHELLFISH FREE FAMILY!" she proclaimed with a loud laugh. Before I knew it, our glasses were raised and smashing together with enthusiastic vigor. Not only did she find it funny, but it also became one of our own personal jokes.

I'm happy to say, we are now friends.

Was there a moral to this story? I don't know. But it sure did feel good to be saved. At least once.