Tom was a straight shooter and fastidiously honest to Walter, the owner, even after I dragged Tom out of the refrigerator and slapped him and pounded his chest to make him red instead of purple, 2 years ago. But Tom died 2 weeks ago.
The crabs I bought there Thursday and bragged about here yesterday and ate today, truly sucked. All but raw.
Walter, Karen, and Caroline, wake up.
I miss Tom. And others do, also. And he had your boat afloat.
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