Bernie Liechester

Yep. That's my official porn name (for those of you who don't know, it's your first pet's name followed by the name of the street you first lived on). Sounds like an accountant doesn't it? There's a knock at the door. A nearly nude woman races from the bathroom cluching a towel around her tan, dripping wet body. "Hello. I'm Bernie Liechester with the IRS and I'd like to talk to you about your 1996 Federal Tax Return." (cue cheesy porn music... bow chicka bow wow).

For the past two-and-a-half weeks, I've been hanging out on a lake in the mountains of North Carolina. Every morning I would leave the cabin (well, mansion really), hop in my kayak, tool around the coves and points of the west bank, and fish. About a week into my stay, my bud Jen from Miami showed up in town. She was staying in another house on the lake just down the way a bit. When she heard about my fishing expeditions, she was enthralled and wanted to come along in her one-man canoe. A few days later, we met halfway between our places on the water, I gave her a pole, and we proceeded to fish. Jen was the first to score as she reeled in a small bass that I removed from her line and set free. We decided to stay in the area and fish the small coves that were shaded by overhanging brush and trees. I pulled up into one of these spots and was tossing my Mepps lure back up underneath the brush to see if I could coax out a big one when one hit. Not too big, but I could tell he was about three pounds or so when he leapt from the surface of the water and flung my lure from his mouth. Nice. "C'mon baby, hit me again," I thought as tossed my Mepps in the same direction... right into an overhanging bush. Son of a... As I struggled to pull my line free, my pole was bent into the shape of a C and the line was as taught as a banjo string. Just then, the battle between the irresistible force of my pole and the not-so-immovable object plant was won... by my pole. And that lure with three hooks on it came flying back at me at an incredible speed. SMACK!!! That damned thing hit me square in the cheek and one of the hooks buried itself in the flesh just below my right eye. I tried to pull it out, but not knowing which direction the hook was facing it was a futile attempt and I did not want to push the barb through if it was not already under the skin. "Uh Jen, I'm going to need your help over here," I laughed. "Did you catch one?" "Not exactly," I answered. "Did you get hung in a tree?" "Well, I WAS hung in a tree," I said as I paddled toward her boat. "Oh my God AT," she exclaimed as she turned and saw the leaf covered lure hanging from my face. She had genuine concern on her face at first, but when she saw that I was ok, we both began to laugh uncontrollably. I said, "Take a look at this thing and see if you can pull it out of my face. Can you see the barb?" "Jesus AT. I don't see it," she answered in a shaky voice. "That sucks. That means we're going to have to push it through and cut the barb off," I muttered. "I don't think I can do that," she said squeamishly, "Let's head back to your place." (cue cheesy porn music... ha ha... I just couldn't resist with a line like that) So I began to leisurely paddle back towards the dock about a quarter of a mile away when Jen yelled, "C'mon AT, hurry up! For the love of God, you have a hook in your face!! How can you be so calm? I would be hysterical right now." "It's just a small piece of metal," I stated. Man, Jen was really freaking out, and the hook was in MY face, not her's. God help us all if this had happened to Jennifer instead of me. We got back to the dock and I was trying to get my boat out of the water when Jen screamed, "AT I'll get your kayak, go up to the house!" "But..." "NOW!!" Yes Mom. I made my way to the boat house to grab a set of pliers and headed up the moss covered stone path to the house, Jen not far in tow. As I walked in the sliding glass door I called, "Hey Pop. I need your help for a minute." Just then my mom came out of the kitchen and said, "Dear Lord, what happened?" "This thing is stuck in my face," I answered as I handed my dad the pliers. Then, Jen's paranoia became infectious. "There's a doctor up on the corner..." "Ma, I'm not going to the doctor. It's just a little piece of wire." "You're going to need a tetanus shot," Jen added. "If it was in my finger would I need a tetanus shot?" "Goddamnit, I can't do this in here with these women," my dad said, "Let's go outside. Is it up to the barb?" "I can't see the damned thing Pop, but Jen said it was," I answered. When we got outside, my dad began pulling leaves out of the hooks so that he could get a good bite with the pliers. He looked at it for a second, and without saying a word, he grabbed it with his hand and with a quick jerk, yanked it right out of my cheek. With a disgusted look on his face he said, "Shit son, the barb wasn't even under the skin." Like I was wasting his time or something. I think he was actually looking forward to pushing that hook through my cheek muscle and out a fresh, new hole in my face. We went back inside and I let the girls know that it really wasn't as bad as they had thought, disappointed that a three pound bass had gotten away because Jen was lacking the cojones to pull the lure out while we were still on the water. (I still love you though Jen :P ) After it was all over, I was walking her back to the canoe when she said, "AT, I can't believe you were so calm. You thought your dad was going to have to push that hook through and you seemed unaffected." "There's no sense in getting all upset about it," I quipped, "That was the only option." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the moral of this story.

After I sent Jen on her way, I got back in my boat, headed for that same cove, and I caught that bass.



Peace.