Saturday, August 28, 2010

Welcome to the Phoque (Fuck) Show

I promised you a story, a story about Phoques and the great show they put on in Quebec City.

When I first got to the aquarium situated on the banks of the St. Lawrence River I had no idea what a phoque was. All I knew was it sounded dirty and more than a little like an English word that got my mouth washed out with soap the first time I said it. That's right. Fuck. Phoque and Fuck. They couldn't be any different but in the seats of the aquarium during Marjorie and Sandy's cocktail hour it was fuck this and fuck that and I thought it was totally inappropriate for the occasion.

You'd think that I knew what a phoque was given our seats at the upcoming show. A phoque is a seal and while it sounded a lot like a curse word, it was the cutest curse word I had ever seen in the flesh. There was Cleo and Nikki, Dalia and another two that I can't remember their names. Five seals were part of the hour's entertainment before dinner. Wine glass in hand, the guests sat in the stands and watched as the phoques danced and clapped, swam and jumped, and it was amazing. They were the cutest fucks I had ever seen.

They also smelled like mackerel. They were smelly fucks. Marjorie and Sandy and a dozen of the wedding guests got so up close and personal that they would know what the phoques had for dinner. Mackerel. A lot of mackerel.

All of the phoques had been born into captivity. That is to say that they had never seen an actual ocean, let alone swam in one. While they were incredibly cute and I imagined swimming with them, I was saddened to realize that they would never leave the aquarium. The trainer and host of the show, who spoke only a smattering of English, told us that while they were captive, they were happy as this was the only life they had known or would ever know. I guess ignorance is bliss and they did seem happy to give kisses for mackerel and swimming in a safe environment with no known enemies.

It was time for dinner and as The Man and I searched for our table, I broke out laughing when I realized which table we were assigned: the Phoque Table. We were the friendly, cute seals who loved to give kisses in exchange for mackerel. We were the cute, little fucks.


  1. Oh Scribe, you are hilarious to come back to!! The absolute cutest fuck a girl could know. My children only know the word 'phoque' so when I let slip its counterpart from time to time, they think I'm talking seal talk ;-)
    Too funny

  2. Damn, Ange, I am a cute fuck! I sooo wanted to swim with the phoques. It's just too bad I don't like mackerel that much!