The first lobster

“A person should be content,” our ancestors say.

But being content is not that easy.

You need to taste many things before you even reach adolescence.

If you don't have the opportunity to taste them, you at least need to be raised with that discipline.

Otherwise, you might end up being a “nouveau riche.”

You may face problems that are hard to fix, which could keep you up at night or even cause heart palpitations.

I ate my first lobster in 1995 while living a student life at the starvation level in America, at Trump’s casino.

I had taken a free bus from the New York bus terminal to Trump’s casino in Atlantic City. When I arrived at the casino, they shoved a 30-dollar voucher into my hand.

So I wouldn't wander around aimlessly, and would put it into the machines.

I also vaguely remember that I was the only white person on the bus.

While I was calculating how to return without spending that thirty dollars, I got lost in watching those who were gambling.

An employee there noticed me and asked, “Do you want a meal voucher?” While trying to communicate with my broken English, I headed to the restaurant with the free meal voucher I received.

The place was overflowing with lobsters.

After eating some meat and such, when I learned that I still had meal credit left, I decided to eat a lobster. I got the lobster, but I couldn't figure out how to crack it and get the meat out. It turned out there was a tool like a nutcracker for it.

Anyway, after procuring that from somewhere, we went at the lobster's shaft like an industrial lathe operator. However, no matter what I did, I couldn't manage to get anything out of the lobster's body. I tasted the few pieces that spilled around, and it didn't taste like anything.

Tasteless and bland.

Since that day, even if it's free, I haven't really bothered to put it on my plate.

Reading the news that has been circulating since yesterday, it suddenly came to my mind.