While sitting and drinking at the German bar on Playa Caribe with my friend from Hotel Patrick (I call it the German bar cause the guy who owned it was German, and because I’ve forgotten his name), something ran under the bar stools quickly. Something we didn’t quite see, but we all caught had many legs. We all, instantly thought it was a gigantic tarantula or something, so I – forgetting my fear of all spiders (especially those itsy bitsy tiny little ones) – jumped up, grabbed my camera, and ran behind the bar that this creature had just run under (why? because as much as I hate spiders, I don’t really mind giant tarantulas, and have always wanted to see a tarantula in the wild).
The quickly moving creature had now disappeared. The bar owner grabbed a broom and started poking behind the mini fridge, where he said the THING had run. Tentatively poking around, trying to figure out where said mysterious creature went to, while my fear of spiders, (and slow remembrance of being told tarantulas JUMP AT YOU when they attack) started to sink in – said creature o’ horror finally moved.
It was a little crab (NOT a giant tarantula as we all thought. Yea for imagination).
And it was a damn stubborn crab at that.
(Since pretty much no one wears any more than flip-flops on the beach, having a crab on the loose can be a pain in – well – the toes. So removal of crabs from the bar area is essential to healthy feet and happy customers.)
But this crab didn’t want to go. It wedged itself between the bar and the fridge and put up a ridiculously difficult fight. (At work we joke that you have to be 10% smarter than whatever you are trying to work with. So if you cant get out a knot, we joke that you aren’t being 10% smarter than the knot.) Obviously, between the 3 of us (me, the bartender, and my friend) we were at only about 9 1/2…CAUSE THIS CRAB WAS NOT HAVING IT!
The bartender moved the fridge to get at the crab and tried to use a broom handle to coerce the crab into a cup.
Nope, the crab fought viciously. It grabbed the rim of the cup in its claw and wouldn’t let go. We couldn’t get it in the damn cup. And it was squirming, and trying with all its might to run away.
IT BROKE ITS OWN CLAW OFF
(We didn’t do it! I swear! …. Its something the crabs do in defense, drop a claw and run away)….which is exactly what this crab did. When the bartender went to move the broom stick differently, to try another angle to get SuperCrab in the cup, the crab dropped its claw and landed on the floor (again).
(if you look closely at the first photo, you can see the crab is missing its claw. Yes, I am putting photos out of chronological order. Sue me.)
We still, between the 3 of us, could not gather the required 10% to remove this tiny little creature from behind the bar area.
So the bartender grabbed a shovel. After about 15 minutes of fighting this stupid (no, freakishly Einsteinishly smart) crab, we finally managed to combine every ounce of intelligence we had, gather the required 10%, and get the damn crab onto the shovel.
Yes, we were a happy bunch!
So in the end, we succeeded in our quest to catching crabs at the German bar. Usually that is not a desired thing to accomplish..but we were quite proud of ourselves.
So proud we celebrated with beer, empanadas, and Italian Arepas
(the bartender live in Italy for awhile too, and created this amazing cross-cultural concoction of mozzarella cheese, marinara sauce, and an arepa).
I just need to say that Italian and South American food need to be mixed together more often. And that catching crabs at a bar is not always a bad thing.