The phone rings. It is my soon-to-be-ex-wife on a social call.After a few pleasantaries, she throws in - apropos of nothing - "I'm going for one of those fish pedicures tomorrow."
"A what?"
"Fish pedicure. You put your feet in a big bowl of water, and fish eat all the dead skin."
Feh. Cheese grater not good enough for you?
Actually, never mind the cheese grater: Crabs not good enough for you?
But I agree - a fish pedicure is exactly the kind of thing she needs, for it gets her out of the house and away from the stresses and strains of everyday life.
It also gives me a spunker of an idea.
"Hello, is that the Weymouth Fish Pedicure Barn?"
"Yes. Yes it is. How can we help you?"
"You don't happen to have any sharks in stock? Great Whites?"
"No. We do not."
"Could you get hold of a couple? By tomorrow?"
"No, sir. We cannot."
Crap.
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