Where the rubber hits the claw
My brother was visiting the Boston/Cambridge area for a few days and insisted on having lobster for almost every meal. Lobstah, lobstah, lobstah. Apparently you can't get good or fresh lobster in Houston. So we went to real restaurants, seaside seafood restaurants, and finally a real shore-side lobster pound, meet-your-lunch lobster tank, boiling pots and all, up in Rockport. Great place. Sit outside at picnic tables by the sea enjoying your carnivory.
As we were leaving, I spied a bucket of the rubber bands that are used to hold the lobsters' claws closed. When contracted, these bands are wide, half an inch or more, but very small in diameter. They fit snugly on an adult finger, sort of like a wedding band but wider, colored, and rubber.
I snatched two of them. One is in my car, as a yellow headband for the gearshift knob. My brother put his on his pinkie, next to his wedding ring, and said in his toughest George Raft, Edward G. Robinson, movie gangster voice, "I took this off a guy. And then I ate him."
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