He was way more than a gooey cookie, more than an edible, way more than a snack—he was a whole damn meal. A captain’s seafood platter piled high with fried haddock, whole-bellied clams, scallops, and shrimp with none of that pesky slaw on the side to take up space on the plate. No lemon wedge either. And fries? Fuck fries. He was a straight-out-of-the-sea-that-day, drool-worthy bag of yum fried in fresh oil. And this bitch was hungry.
