A Last Meal

In honor of my birthday last week, Mom and I headed off to our favorite eatery to celebrate. If you're a regular reader of this blog then you know that we love to go to Red Lobster. We always get the same thing. Usually. I always go for the Create a Combo section on the lunch menu and get the shrimp scampi and clam strips. Mom gets the combo, too, but chooses the crunch-fried fish and scampi. Mom was perusing the menu when she noticed that the restaurant was featuring Lobsterfest. "I've always wanted to try the lobster here. Does it come from Maine?" she asked. "I don't know. If it did, I'm sure they would have an advertisement saying that. I tried lobster once and it tasted a bit fishy to me. It probably had scallops for its last meal." "Yeah, you're right. I've got square-dancing tonight; I don't want to try something new that keeps peating and repeating. Order my usual for me; I'll be right back." Mom had been gone for a few moments when I caught sight of her standing near the front entrance. She seemed to be staring at something. I got distracted when the waitress brought our drinks and didn't notice Mom slide back into her seat. "Did you get my Blue Cheese on the side?" she asked. "Yep!" "Good. I'm hungry." "What were you looking at over there?" I asked. "Well, all that talk about the lobster got me wondering about the lobsters in the tank over there." "Wondering about what?" I asked. "I was wondering if they get fed or not--you know; like a last meal or something. I didn't see any fish food over there." "Maybe they keep it in the back," I said. "No, probably at the hostess station; it's closer!"