Have you ever had one of those moments when you're getting hot and heavy with a man. You get to the point where you eagerly unzip his pants... only to be woefully disappointed with the goods? Or maybe you remove a bra, ready with heightened anticipation for bountiful pillows to spill out... only to realize it was all a lie.
Then things deflate fast.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAiOeLtw2LRwYZE3RwxutTLBrJAoVshUyHOw-7AvolZzGGQ-VZYenI-Y3PBtmuH3EwQ1O-8FDv9uTHCMSa8nBeXsUK73oNxywZR0aWNYDC7sELGd26fmJ3tXg3vpA1vJqP1XBsawlZS7vh/s320/photo+3.JPG) |
East Coast Seafood Centre |
I wouldn't know how any of that feels, but I have a pretty good idea now. This past Monday, after I cracked open my sri lankan crab claw at No Signboard Seafood, I stared at the dinky limp flesh that stood in its deceptively large shell. I pried the puny, flaccid meat out, now lacking the initial enthusiasm I had originally walked in with.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY455IwgMP6UNOXbQYI4_wXToTWsMK_zCZUn5UiIOJgvh65qfKki0bIL1gQZrctj21kYetwW5VwNWYQmPYer7UiQ59J_HkeyNV9E5JgR9_p-u6gkIHLNjRYx3-f57ASipgzg7ecQ1qpMa0/s320/photo+4.JPG) |
Chili crab |
I don't know if there's a term for these occasional cases of dinky crabs, but I'm going to call it DISAPPOINTMENT.