KING ARTHUR, KNIGHT OF THE OYSTER COUNTENANCE

I had been getting into a pretty good oyster-shucking groove opening a few hundred a night and increasing my speed and then in a relatively quiet moment when I didn't have any dishes to make for service it happened-- the oyster knife slipped. Right. Into. My. Hand. The fleshy part of my hand at the base of my thumb.

I pressed the cut hard and went into the main kitchen to find the sous-chef, Ed McFarland who is trained as a paramedic. "Oh shit. What'd you do now?"

Beyond the gruff reaction, Ed was a model of calm and authority-- which was reassuring. He brought me downstairs to the first aid kit and warned me not to faint. It was exactly then that I felt that I was about to black out. I was really angry at myself for getting the cut breathing pretty deeply. Ed noticed and told me to calm down. I tried to relax but I couldn't feel my thumb nor could I feel the tip of my pointer finger. It was a good cut, good enough that it would leave a decent scar and deep enough that I could have gone for stitches. Perhaps I should have but I hate hospitals and the idea of waiting with the sick, injured and dying for a few stitches while abandoning my station in the second week of work didn't appeal to me. Ed offered to take me to the hospital but I opted for taking a ten minute break sitting outside on a milk crate and then returning to my station. I wasn't worried about the cut healing but I was concerned that I'd severed a nerve.

The waitresses kindly took pity on me and magically, oyster orders slowed to a trickle. I was making salads and desserts with one hand. I got through the night and the next day with some shucking help from Ed and Chef Charles. Likewise, I got through the rest of the week and the following one without regaining the feeling in my thumb though I did start to feel my pointer fingertip in the following days. I gained a resolve to beat back the oysters and to improve my shucking skills. I also gained a resolve to do all I could to prevent a similar accident. I began to quest for a proper osyter shucking glove. I made my first visit to the new Broadway Panhandler location not far from Pearl and scored my new glove, $140, profesional discounted down to $118.

It is basically chain mail. It's got some weight to it and I've had to adapt and compensate for the lack of dexterity. But what I've lost in left-handed nimbleness, I've gained in having five working digits. The wound has healed but the feeling in my thumb still hasn't fully returned.

The glove, as you may imagine, inspired some new jokes and needless to say, I've gained a few new nicknames from it in addition to the ones I already had (Clark, Fonz and most often, Cowboy). I've also regained my confidence and some dexterity. Now to hopefully keep all my digits through the rest of my stay at Garde Manger.

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