Judith Ann Moriarty
5Q

Herman the talking lobster

By - May 31st, 2010 04:00 am
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Herman wasn’t feeling so photogenic, so we borrowed this photo from WikiCommons.

Waiting for my Neptune Sandwich (ummm, albacore tuna) at Koppa’s FulBeli Deli is a piece of cake when an honest-to-goodness lobster lurks nearby, just begging for someone to bend near the tank and chat a bit.

Ahem. Is this talking lobster for real? At first I thought it was fake. This place is loaded with booby traps: stuffed animals, a banana tree, an Atari, whoopee cushions (at the checkout counter) and an odd menu of weirdly named foods. I noticed one of its claws move, so I guess it’s genuine. The lobster tells me it goes by Herman…

Do you remember The Simpsons episode when Homer bought a pet lobster named Mr. Pinchy? He ended up eating him with melted butter.

I don’t watch the tube. If you want a backstory, well, Ken & Heather Koppa (and their kids) rescued me from a tank at Metro Market. Don’t ask me what they were doing shopping there when they own this neighborhood store.

Anyway, long story short, they bought me for 20 bucks and here I am. No one in the Koppa family eats lobster, so I guess I’m safe. However, it’s possible a really hungry dude who has never eaten lobster, could snatch me and run. Naaaah, the ladies in the Deli keep a close watch.

Well, everyone has their particular preferences when it comes to mates and food. What do you eat?

There’s a sign on my tank, see, right there on the front next to your nose. It says, “Don’t Feed the Lobster,” otherwise I’d be sucking soggy muffins and bits of Whoopie Pie. My diet is mostly krill…you know, those shrimpy little things. Every day, the same old, same old. Krill, krill, krill.

You look so lonely. Are you?

Honestly, the alternative — if I’d stayed at Metro Market — wasn’t so hot. I mean, it’s depressing to hang around until you are taken home to be grilled or broiled or whatever. Watching others of my species disappear one by one might have driven me to suicide. By the way, don’t let my name fool you. I’m a she. A biologist waiting for his Polish Taco identified me as such. Does it matter?

Heather Koppa told me the goal is to eventually return you to the ocean. Or at least, not to a Weber Grill. Frankly your tank is spotless. Cleaner than my condo. I’ve been looking for something to grill this weekend. Any suggestions?

May I suggest a big fat Idaho potato?

I’ll check back with you next week. Now and then I pop in for an Elvis Sandwich. You know, fried peanut butter and banana. I see their menu doesn’t include a lobster sandwich, Herman.

Knock off the jokes. And don’t call me Herman!

P.S. Memorial Day Update: Herman is getting huge.  And get this, he has his own Facebook page at I.M. Herman. What a showboat.

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