Go when you have the opportunity
On a beautiful sunny day in Victoria it seemed like everyone was trying to play match-maker. The Hobokeners were trying to set up Trish with Mick our whale watch guide who truthfully seemed like a bit of a fruit. At lunch, Trish passed a note to a waiter, pretending it was from Tara. And at dinner, while the waiter from lunch had just arrived, Tara was writing a note in very girly writing that was presumably from me to our waitress.
Now, this waitress was not having a good day. She had her struggles with serving our large group, and she got a little snappy at me when I was confused about what a jug of beer was. Was it a pitcher or was it a jug? Could I drink it by myself or did I need a team? I didn't know - even though I had recently found out that I was part Canadian.
As the meal went on, and her stress level decreased Tara engaged her in conversation to see if she could settle our bet on whether or not a scallop was a mollusk. She came through, like the clam that she is, and I lost a Canadian fiver. Well, I suppose that's how she got her name; the clam. It didn't hurt that the inappropriate note that Tara wrote was passed along with my bill to her............what was her response? Nothing, stone, cold, clammy!!
However, the clam would make its reappearance, not in person, not in a dream, but in the form of a ferry boat ticket titled "CLAM." How fortuitous.