100 YEARS OLD AND STILL SYMPATHETIC TO MOLLUSCS...

WALKING down the street this morning, I heard an odd snuffling noise coming from near the root of a tree by the roadside. I moved closer, expecting to see a cat, dog, squirrel, pangolin or some other small mammal in distress but was astonished to find nothing but an oyster. “What’s wrong? Can I help?” I asked. He bristled his whiskers and clicked his shells together a few times. “Are you a carpenter or a walrus?” he asked. “We’ve had no end of trouble with them in the past.”

“I think I know what you’re referring to,” I said. “You were treated dreadfully by that mendacious couple of mollusc munchers, as I recall. But I am pleased to ensure you that I am not, nor have I ever been, nor do I have the most remote plans of becoming either a carpenter or a walrus in the foreseeable future.”

“I’m very relieved to hear it,” the oyster said. “I’m quite miserable enough as it is.” “Why is that?” I asked concernedly. “It’s October,” he said. “Yes,” I agreed. “It has been since yesterday. What’s so awful about October?”

“There’s an R in the month,” he said. “I’d have thought a literate gentleman such as yourself would know that.”

“Ah,” I said, “and many people believe that having an R in the month entitles them to eat oysters. But last month was September, and there was an R in that month too.”

“Exactly,” said the oyster, “but I wish you’d told me that a month ago. It’s my own fault, I suppose. When September began, I started spelling it out and got as far as the B without finding an R, so thought it was probably safe. I suppose May, June, July and August had lulled me into a false sense of security. So when I heard, at the start of September, that Geronimo Inns had teamed up with the Colchester Oyster Company and were offering Champagne and oyster treats at several of their establishments, I thought it didn’t matter.”

“Gee, shucks,” I said, unable to find the right words to show my sympathy.

“Don’t say that word!” shrieked the oyster. “Shucking is the word for opening an oyster and removing it from its shell. It’s a shucking tragedy.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” I said. “I meant to say that I’m shocked. But why are you so miserable now? I believe the Geronimo promotion ends on October 2 which would mean that today is the last day and you’ll now be safe.”

“Safe?” said the oyster. “Safe? What do you mean ‘safe’? We’ve had to put up with walruses, carpenters and the rest of you people eating oysters for the past month just because there’s an R in it, and now, just when I was beginning to breathe a sigh of relief, I discover there’s an R in October too.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” I said, “but there’s an R in November, December, January, February, March and April too.”

At those words, the oyster’s shell clicked wide open. “Eat me now,” he said. “I want to end it all.” So taking a swig from a bottle of Laurent-Perrier I happened to be carrying, I did.