Caution: Lewd humor ahead. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

So, G and I went out to dinner at a local man's paradise. No, not a strip club. This place is a fantastic tribute to adult male couch potato sportsters. Pristine fields of green felt (that's pool tables, y'all), dart boards, a hundred foot walk around bar, big screen televisions, acres of arcade games and a very fine full service restaurant. All in one place! The Man Show crew would be proud to dine and play in this establishment. It is a place we know as Dave & Busters.

Anyway, after amusing ourselves for a while we took a break and went over to the restaurant area for the aforementioned dinner. Our very pleasant waitress left menus and took our drink orders (they have an excellent beer selection as well). We hungrily opened the beautifully laminated multipage missives and began poring over the choices. I passed over the desserts (you see why we love this place - the menu starts with desserts), appetizers, chickens and steaks. None of these enticed me as I already had a specific goal - I was targetting an artichoker. No, not an artichoke (that wierd little vegetable that you eat by scraping leaf gunk off its fibrous plates) but an artichoker. A burger so loaded with cholesterol that merely gazing upon its reflection while wearing arc welding glasses can cause instant and violent stoppage in major arteries. Next was the salad page (salad before burgers? yeesh. minus 1 point for Dave & Busters) which was quickly supressed with extreme prejudice before its corruptive influence could harm me. Finally, the Burgers & Sandwiches page. That's page 7 for those of you playing along at home. As I looked down the page, scanning for my target, my eyes did a double take, returning to the top of the page of their own volition. I carefully read the first couple items and then realized what had so ensnared my subconcious attention.

(We now move to the made up conversation portion of this post.)

Things got bad from there and the concerned waitress hurried over to assist G, who had apparently inhaled an ice cube and/or firmly implanted one in his nasal sinuses. Eventually things settled down and we managed to order dinner. Things went well until the actual dinner came, at which time rude things were done to the fish tacos that caused another ice vs. sinus episode.

Ah, Dave & Busters. You've got customers for life.

UPDATE: My editor tells me that nobody will understand the humor here because "fish taco" isn't a very widely used phrase and my teaser in the title (little man in the boat) isn't either. I disagree but never let it be said that I'm uncooperative. Feel free to replace the title with any of the following if it helps you figure out fish taco.

Is that muff warm?
Hair pie a la mode
Bearded clam chowder

UPDATE2: The D&B menu also features "Kumbak Sauce" for the Buster's Cheeseburger. I shudder to think where I could have gone with that one.