When I was a kid I had two pet bunnies, Hester and Woody. My mother hated these bunnies. She hated them so much that she decided to manipulate my sister and I into getting rid of them. You see, all our lives we begged and begged for a dog. This longing for a furry four-legged friend is what my mother realized was her ticket to bribe us into getting rid of the bunnies. "If you get rid of the bunnies" she told us, "I'll get you a dog." I, the older sibling and true desirer of the dog, was put to the task of finding a new home for the bunnies. I asked all of my friends at school if they wanted bunnies including an asian friend whose parents owned a Chinese Food restaurant. Said asian friend said she would take the bunnies. I gave them to her and didn't think another thing about it. A few weeks later, I went to visit the bunnies at her house when she told me they had mysteriously "hopped away." Hopped away? I was really sad. I worried about my bunnies lost in the wilderness. It was only upon reflection years later that I realized, they ate them. They ate my bunnies for dinner, possibly even served them as food in their restaurant. Damn my naivety towards asian culture. I've yet to forgive myself.
For my 22nd birthday this year I went to a bar in Danbury called Maxwell's and I drank and drank and drank to the point where the rest of this story had to be relayed to me the next morning. My asian friend from my childhood, the one to whom I gave my bunnies, was at the bar that night. In my drunken state I was prompted by this reunion to go up to her and yell at her about how she killed and ate my bunnies. I do not recall her response to this, all I know is for the next half hour I ran around the bar telling anyone who would listen that Debbie killed my bunnies. Debbie if you ever read this, I'm sorry.
