I won a lobster!

OK, I am, a big sucker for those stuffed animal claw games... you know, those ones that sometimes don't clamp strongly enough, so the toy just slips out of the claw, no matter how good your geometry and physics skills are? OK, well, my DH took me the Seville Quarter, a bar in downtown Pensacola, to play pool with a buddy of his he hadn't seen in awhile. Letting boys be boys, I played one game of pool (quite terribly, since I am incredibly out of practice, thanks to the time spent as a mother and scrapbooking), so I sat out and let the boys take over the table. I spotted the lobster game across the room and just HAD to play ... while you win a lobster dinner if you "fish" one out, I wasn't in it for the meal. I just loved the concept of clawing for lobster!
But at $2 a shot, it would be easy to spend way more than a lobster dinner would cost. And I think I did. I know I spent at least $20, but then I lost count a few turns after that. It was just so much fun chasing the little suckers around the tank! I finally managed to get a hold of a calm one, one who didn't appear to want to fight and squirt his way out of the claw before I could get him over the chute. I held my breath as the claw slowly pulled him out of the water and started to take him over to the corner chute. About half way there I started screaming across the back half of the bar for my DH: "Rodney! Rodney! I got a lobster! I got a lobster!"
Clunk! The claw dropped the crustacean down the chute. And then came the interesting the part: Figuring out what to do next. There wasn't a big sign that said "open here" or anything, to get the lobster out. So I pushed around the front of the machine until I found the sliding door. The poor thing was upside down on his head! Now I was starting to feel guilty. I started to reach inside the chute for it. One girl who had been playing pool at a table near us leaned her head down beside me and said, "Ew! Don't touch it!" I paused mid-grab, and looked at her - "Why not?" Maybe she knew something about live lobsters that I didn't. They are poisonous, they have slick residue that gives you a rash, they can bust through their claw rubber bands ... what? "It's just gross, don't touch it." Gee, thanks, hon. Ignoring the ninny, I reached into the chute and grabbed the poor creature, holding him upright as I gazed at his face. His eyeballs were moving around, probably gazing feverishly into my face, wondering about my intentions. That guilt thing got a little worse ... but the fierce satisfaction of having snared a lobster took over. "I won a lobster! I won a lobster!" By then, the DH showed up with his friend to admire my fine catch.
"You can't keep it. We're NOT keeping it," he said, obviously used to my strong desire to bring needy creatures home.
Someone in the small crowd gathered around me said, "No, dude, you don't keep it, you eat it."
Then the scrapbooker in me managed to rise to the surface. "Oh! I don't have my camera. I didn't bring my big purse!" (I had brought a smaller one for adult going-out night purposes only. The Mom Purse that I had left at the hotel room had the camera in it.) So, with my free hand, I fumbled on my belt loop for my cell phone.
"Here, take my picture. Quick. I want to get him back into the water."
The picture was taken, the waitress, followed by the lobster tank key man, came by and I dropped the lobster back into the tank. I was issued a certificate for a free lobster dinner, but I don't think I will redeem it. That certificate is SO scrapbookable! Then, I looked back into the tank. One of my lobster's buddies had left a small corner pile of his lobster friends and, lo and behold, had a $10 bill stuffed under one of his claw rubber bands. Oh, yeah! Now I know what my goal is for the next time I happen to be at Seville Quarter ... lobster AND my money back!