The Original All You Can Eat Fish Fry

Today's a beautiful day, as last night was a beautiful night. This morning the snow fell in a combination of dance and fury. Last night the moon lit the top of a low bank of cloud. I hope everyone who was looking for a silver lining saw it.
I went out last night with the J.F.C.C.C.'ers. B. wanted to go out to eat; I wanted to go someplace out of the ordinary and someplace where I'd know they'd use our money for good. Then I remembered it was Friday, and I couldn't eat meat. Fish fry!
B.'s husband (who is also a B; B2 we'll call him) suggested Hartzell United Methodist. I wasn't so sure at first--a Methodist fish fry? It didn't seem quite right--but then he said it was all you can eat. Allrighty then.
Mr. and Mrs. Glorious Leader were out of town, as was another of our housemates, but everyone else from the J.F.C.C.C. House joined the party--M. and her friend T. who was visiting, J. and B. (erm, I guess for this story he's B3). The two B.s would meet us there; the five of us from the 'House piled in the M.-mobile amid merry cries of "shotgun!" and elaborate arguments over shotgun rules. (Does everyone have to be out the door before shotgun is called? Some said yes, some said no. Can you call shotgun for the way back on the ride out? No. Does the driver have veto power? No--the driver has the vehicle; that's enough power.)
On the way we discovered this would be The Very First Fish Fry for many of us, a concept that frankly I have a hard time wrapping my head around. But that meant a Methodist fish fry was a good choice--gotta ease'em in slowly. Plus did I mention it was all you can eat?
We arrived just as B squared did. The parking lot looked like a country church picnic's (I wonder how many of my fellow J.F.C.C.C.'ers have been to a country church picnic?) and the line was out the door. But the line moved fast. As we drew near the money-takers we were getting closer to the actual church part of the building. We could hear piano music and see people sitting in pews. "Where's the fish?" we cried in dismay. Would we have to profess Christ (admittedly not a problem in this group) before we'd be admitted to the dinner? Or was the whole thing a setup--were they just wafting the smell of frying Icelandic cod through the place to lure people to their service? No, B2 explained, they were just letting us sit in the pews until our numbers were called as a more pleasant alternative to standing in line. As he said this, the woman on the piano broke into "It's All For the Best" from Godspell. And the selection after that was from Grease.
We paid our money, got numbered tickets, and sat in a pew. We leafed through the Methodist hymnal and listened to the guy up front call numbers like this was bingo or somethin' (he was really letting us know when we could go get our fish). Bingo Guy was named Harold--of course he was--and he was wearing a shirt that said on the back "The Original All You Can Eat Fish Fry--Hartzell United Methodist Church" with a Bible citation at the end. We asked him to turn around so we could get the verse number. He obliged, shaking his tailfeather to the music as he did so. It was Matthew 15:29-38. The pews were equipped with Bibles, so we looked it up--it was the feeding of four thousand with loaves and fishes.
When our numbers were called, we went into the Fellowship Hall. The smell of fishy goodness was making us hungrier and hungrier, but the end was in sight. We dropped the main portion of our tickets in a basket ("Save the little part for the dessert table!" a church lady admonished) and picked up a plate of cod, mac'n'cheese, cole slaw and bread. The girl pouring iced tea and lemonade knocked over a glass of ice as I approached. "Oh, snap!" she said, to the delight of the My Name Is Earl freaks among us.
I was beginning to lose my faith in the promise of all you can eat fish; we'd already gone through the line and given up our tickets, so how could we get more? Then we got to our table. There was a bright orange laminated fish in the middle of it. On it was another Bible verse about a miraculous feeding--the "and fishes" part of "loaves and fishes" was italicized and underlined--and the words "Want more fish? Wave me!" That explained the people I'd seen at other tables holding brightly colored laminated fish over their heads. No one was waving them, though M. made hers "swim" as she held it up.
The meal was excellent, as was the company, and we all ate a lot of fish. We thought going bowling would be a nice way to round out the evening, but the local alleys all had tournaments and private parties, so we went to Starbucks instead (with a side trip to DQ for some of us) where M. and I explained the -Pants Rule to those who hadn't heard it.
It was a fine evening, and we plan on doing it again next week. So if you're in the area and want some great all you can eat fish next Friday, drop me a line (rimshot).