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I'm not a lobster person. No, not I. I do go red, however under the Spanish sun, or any sun for that matter. Twice a year we get live lobster which we cook in boiling water. "Ouch!"
I hear the lobsters scream in pain.
Ever wondered why the words in 'La Vida Loca' end in 'a'? Probably not. But, just in case you have, it's because 'vida' is feminine. The article and the adjectives have to agree with one another in Spanish.
La langosta roja. The red lobster. Similarly, the noun is feminine, therefore the ajective is also feminine.
Who cares, right?
I cared when people would tell me that I was as red as a lobster. Never have had a tan in the whole of my life, despite living along the Mediterranean coastline of Spain.
Which is worse, do you think? Looking like a red lobster or a glass of milk? Yes. In the winter I'd be told I looked like a glass of milk. It's nobody's business what we look like. Is it? Well, maybe if we're so horribly ugly that people get offended by our funny face, then perhaps we should hide. Come to think on it, being as red as a lobster is rather odd-looking. I should have buried myself in the sand, or better still, used more sunscreen!
As for the lobsters? They were gobbled up, not by me, however. The people who ate them liked the appearance of the lobsters, all chunky and wriggling, and devoured them ferociously. Maybe appearances are important? Maybe the lobsters would still be alive if they hadn't looked so enticing, if they had been smaller and insignificant?
We'll never know.
How important do you think appearances are?
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