Reminds me of when my wife and I got reassigned from Alaska to New Mexico. We arrived just before thanksgiving. For the usual Thanksgiving party we decided, (with encouragement from several of the older women I worked with) to make our dishes from game meat. These ladies had never had Moose, and claimed to not have had venison in several years. When I brought the dishes in I required that the dishes be marked appropriately so no one would unknowingly eat something they would not want to eat. One of my co-workers, Connie, ,made signs for "Bullwinkle Stew" "Bambi Roast" "Diamond Slivers". Well as most of you can figure out that meant Moose stew, Mule Deer roast, Diamond Back Rattlesnake fried and the meat torn from the bones into slivers. These two young women "Yuppie Types" really went after all the meat dishes. They just raved about the stew, and those spicy slivers. Finally one of them asked where I bought my meat. I told them it was game meat, they said "No, it taste too good to be game meat. Don't try and tease us where did you buy it?" Finally one of the elderly women there leaned forward and looking them in the eye asked, "Can't you girls tell the difference between venison and beef? And those spicy chicken slivers you like so much ain't chicken, it's good ole Rattlesnake!" Those girls grabbed their mouths and ran from the building. They refused to speak to me for the next three years. Oh well I somehow survived with out their attention. The elderly women were always inviting the wife and I out to their homes. They never got tired of talking about those two young ladies.
