So, the Mathematician has gout. It's a weird old mannish condition caused by high uric acid levels in the blood, back from the middle ages to haunt him.
Because of this the Mathematician can't eat many of things that he loves, like pate or organ meat really, lobster, shrimp and crab, of any crustaceans, certain fatty fish like anchovies - the list goes on and on. Tonight we sampled oysters, seafood, and rose at B&G Oysters in the South End. Here's a glimpse, a la East Coast Girl, of what our relationship looks like from the inside:
ME: (Spying a dish on it's way from the kitchen to someone else's table) I want that lobster roll. Look at it. I know what it tastes like: awesome.
MATHEMATICIAN: Well then get it, baby.
ME: No, you can't have it. Besides, we already ordered bivalves.
MATHEMATICIAN: No, go ahead and enjoy it -- don't let me hold you back.
ME: That's kinda mean, don't you think? And I prefer to share anyway.
MATHEMATICIAN: No, I want you to enjoy yourself. Don't let me get in the way just because I can't have that. I can enjoy vicariously through you. Kind of like watching you hook up with a girl.
(I furrow my brow.)
MATHEMATICIAN: You know, I'd like it and I'd like to watch. And I might totally want to join in, but I can't. It's verboten.
(I narrow my eyes.)
MATHEMATICIAN: You don't like my analogies do you?
ME: No, no, I think you're right on the money.
Look out, Lobster Roll. I've got your number.
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