The highlight of John’s life so far had been the vacation he treated himself to the preceding summer for his twenty-sixth birthday. While most of his co-workers headed to the beach, the mountains, Europe, or an island paradise, John had booked a week in New Orleans. He planned seven nights of nothing but seafood and jazz. Bourbon Street was everything he had hoped it would be. Small out-of-the-way clubs, popular tourist traps – he hit them all and reveled in the performances. And the food – a gastronomic treat! From a bowl of seafood gumbo to a highly seasoned crab cake, John had never enjoyed such fine preparation of seafood. At the suggestion of a waiter on his second night in town, he finally tasted crawfish for the first time in his life and it became one of his new favorites. Of course, he was a little embarrassed when he didn’t know how to tackle the little critters and had to ask what the correct way to eat them should be. The waiter merely smiled and told him, “You just pinch the tail and suck the head.” So he did for each remaining night of his vacation.

He was so impressed with them that he stopped at a t-shirt shop and bought a souvenir shirt that was in the window. Emblazoned across the front was a graphic of a huge red crawfish with the words, “Pinch the tail, suck the head,” scrawled beneath.

Of course, when he got back to work, he had to listen to everyone else bragging about their respective vacations and boring folks with their cell phone pictures. But he tolerated it.

Driving home after work, John realized he needed to stop for some groceries. On his way to the checkout, he realized how hot and humid it was and that he didn’t really feel like cooking since he had rather feasted at work. Then an idea struck him – GAZPACHO – cool, refreshing, easy to make with the food processor, and always satisfying. So gazpacho it would be.

When he came to the produce section, he quickly found two Vidalia onions, some very meaty tomatoes, but discovered that the cucumbers were a bit mushy. As he stood there feeling each one, trying to find a firm one, another customer approached and he too started squeezing the cucumbers.

“Doesn’t seem to be a hard one in the whole bin,” he said.

John agreed. “Not my regular market, but I did expect a better selection.”

“Nice shirt,” he said. “You do it often?”

“Not around here, but in New Orleans it was almost every night.”

“Kewl,” he replied. “Lucky you!” John noticed that the young man was gently stroking the cucumber he was holding. “I don’t do it often, but I sure would like to do it with you. I think it would be hot!”

Suddenly a light went off in John’s head. He had only laughed about the shirt he was wearing, with the graphic of a huge red crawfish, and the words, “Pinch the tail, suck the head,” scrawled beneath. He had been thinking of crawfish and the waiter. It never donned on him that it could mean something else, and now here he was getting propositioned by a stranger in a supermarket. “I’m sorry,” he said. “When I said it was almost every night in New Orleans, I was talking about eating crawfish. I’m afraid you misunderstood me and I definitely misunderstood you. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a prude or anything like that. It’s just not my bag.”

“That’s okay, but the offer still stands – one way. You are one hot looking man and I’d love to give you pleasure.”