Forget about the Boston Tea Party -- there are tons of steamed lobsters right outside my office at this very moment. Where are the vats of drawn butter?
The most excellent Hook family owners vow to rebuild after blaze destroys landmark seafood business. And I believe they will, and quickly. Better, stronger than before even. Behold, the next-generation bionic lobster company!
What particularly saddens me at the moment is that something "devoured 60,000 pounds of lobster...", and it wasn't me.
I'm guessing arson. That lobster pound sat smack in the middle of some prime waterfront real estate, in the hottest development area in town. And the Hooks have fought to stay there before.
There's another possibility, though, one too terrible to believe. Could it be my fault? Could this be another one of my mystical powers?
You see, I recently gave up lobster. (Yes, I know that report says I can have it as often as three times a month, but considering the massive quantities I've eaten in my lifetime, I figure I'm probably already way over my personal quota. I mean, it's not like the mercury ever leaves your system.)
So, I give up lobster, and then my fave lobster place burns to the ground. This would be merely a coincidence, if it weren't for the Raven bar in New York. I used to celebrate my birthday at the Raven every year, and there were many other messy celebrations. But right after I accepted the job in Boston and prepared to move, the Raven burned down and was shuttered.
Honestly, what kind of superpower is this? Nothing I love can live on after I leave it? (wait, don't ask any of my ex-boyfriends about that one...)
Well if the Raven has hopes to rebuild, then maybe we can still hold out hope that the Hook family will persevere. In the meantime, any intrepid souls with scuba gear in the mood for some smoky lobster bisque?
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