A fishing trip with new friends? Sounds like a plan. Sure, I hate the thought of fishing, but who doesn’t fancy another swim in piranha and penis-fish infested waters? Plus…who the hell is going to catch anything when fashioning their own gear from a discarded stick, a hook, and a shit load of nylon wire?
I’m not meant to be a fisher-woman. That much was obvious when I managed to get fishing wire tangled with more fishing wire in addition to my elbows, t-shirt, and even my hair at one point. As I sat miserably in the tangled up chaos I’d created, I wondered how everybody else had managed to keep their equipment so neat and tidy. Were they all professionals or something? Looking around I saw in fact there was one other person who had completely bodged their whole fishing line. Ahh yes. Typical. It was Don. Both of us, utterly useless. I wouldn’t be asking him for help then. Luckily one of the locals decided to take pity on me. He cut me free and then expertly set to work fixing up a makeshift rod. He had to start from scratch of course as I’d already ruined the first lot of stuff!
Armed with a tub of freshly dug, juicy worms, I headed for the muddy river. I felt slightly guilty as I speared the poor unsuspecting worm onto a hook, but quickly threw it as far away from me as possible so I could forget the horror that had just occurred. Time passed, and I was getting agitated. Standing in the shallow water, with a piece of wood in one hand and a confused look on my face, I was beginning to wonder how long it would be before a curious piranha would come and mistake my toes for fat, swollen maggots.
Finally my friend Boris realised that I was fishing all wrong and came to actually throw my hook into the water. It was unlikely that a fish was going to reach it whilst it was tangled up in some tree roots on the river bank. I felt thankful when he relieved me from my fishing duties for a while, as he attempted to demonstrate how to hold the line properly and how I’d know If I caught a fish ect, ect. Pretending to listen, I was actually much more interested in watching a cheeky little squirrel monkey clinging affectionately onto the back of a spaniel. It was the most unlikely friendship I’ve ever witnessed!
After a while, Boris left to collect more bait. And then the worst thing happened. My wire moved. Without thinking I instinctively tugged at it. Then I realised…Id only gone and caught a bloody fish! Shit! Now what??! I didn’t actually want to catch a fish! This was awful! Where the hell was Boris?!
“What do I do?” I wailed.
“Just leave it on that rock” laughed Boris, reappearing from the riverbank.
“But it’s dying!”
He wrapped it carefully in a leaf for some strange reason, and then passed it back to me.
“It’s in pain!”
“We need to put it out of its pain” Shouted another voice
“Kill it then!”
“I can’t!” I shrieked.
Flapping around like a maniac with a half dead fish in my hand, I passed it gladly to my cannibal of a boyfriend. Have you ever seen the Inbetweener’s episode where Neil punches the fish? What followed was pretty much a re-enactment. Don lifted the poor thing high into the air, and then smashed its head into a rock with an almighty blow. Then he did it again! And I’m pretty sure he did it a third time, just in case. It was pure carnage.
If that’s not enough to turn a person vegetarian…I’m not sure what is!