Lady and the Clam

I love spaghetti and clams. Always have. I love the pile of shells left afterwards. I love ’em in red sauce, white sauce, wine sauce, garlic sauce, any sauce.

Okay, I LOVED spaghetti and clams.

On Friday we went to Wegmans after picking up my car from the shop (dead blower motor). While WM was ordering his dinner, I saw a big display of bagged clams on ice. I love clams! So I picked up a bag to see how much it cost and one of the clams inside closed shut. I dropped the bag back on the table.

The bags were made of netting. Suspiciously, I touched a clam through the bag and the shell slammed shut!

LIVE CLAMS the bag said. My stomach lurched.

Bags and bags of (terrified? I guess so…) clams were dying on this table right in front of me. So people like me could have spaghetti and clams in any sauce they wanted.

I ended up getting a tomato pie, almost certain that nothing died for that meal.

Upon coming home, I canceled our reservation at Disney’s Cape May Cafe with its amazing seafood buffet that I have been craving for four years.

I already don’t eat veal and lamb, and I’m veryclose to dropping all pork products. Now I’m done with clams for a long time. At this rate I’ll probably be a vegetarian by the time I’m 50.

Stupid bleeding heart. Stupid empathy.