I once had a pelican as a girl friend. Ted knows. Oh, it was innocent enough at first, we met on the beach of course, where she was fishing, and I took her to Doc's Bar on Tybee Island. She didn't have an ID but I was able to convince the bartender it would be OK for one drink if I held her on my arm and didn't let her touch the floor. She ordered an oyster shooter. I should have bowed out at that point. Dating a pelican without an ID these days is like dating an Iraqi applying for her green card.
I took her to dinner at the Crab Shack and she insisted on fish. Fish. She wouldn't try anything else. "I recommend the New York Sirloin, hang the cost!"
"Poop!"
We kissed, and it was love. I know love like from college but there's nothing like a pelican's kiss. There are those wattles...and the feathered features. She asked if we could go somewhere.
We went to the Tybee Marriot Beachside Radisson Hilton and I smuggled her in with the burlap bag I told the clerk was the newest Louie Vitton, and when I let her out of the bag she shrieked! She said she thought "somewhere" meant like the fish market, or the Long Beach Pier after a long plane ride....
The next morning we shared a can of King Olav Sardines. After that I walked to the sliding doors by the balconey and she just...well, she just flew off.