My goldfish

A few years back I decided to go to a carnival with a few friends and be moderately freaked out by how unsafe their rides are compared to Disney’s. 

But walking around by all the booths, we came upon one of those ‘toss a ping pong ball into a glass jar and win a goldfish’ type deals. I have always wanted to win a goldfish at a fair. I don’t know why, it’s just one of those rite of passage things that I held myself up to. 

Anyways, five dollars later, I didn’t win. 

Just before giving up completely an walking away, I saw a little boy and his mother come up to the booth to collect a goldfish winning. 

Apparently, the boy was a natural at the game. He could win just about every time. 

So I bribed him a dollar to win me a goldfish. 

I brought the goldfish home in a ziplock bag and the first thing I did was accidentally drop it down the sink. I scooped it out quickly and placed it in a small temporary jar. I then went to Walmart to purchase a small fish bowl. 

For about two or three days, that goldfish sat miserably in the fish bowl gaping for oxygen. So I did some research, and I was like ‘dang! This thing needs like a 20 gallon tank!’ And so I spent nearly 100 bucks on a fancy 20 gallon tank with rocks, a filter, some neat decorations, and everything else. 

After a while he looked kind of lonely, so I bought him another small goldfish companion that was all spotted. 

Over the course of years, this fish has been flipped out of his tank, dropped to the floor, and swimming in his own filth many times. I honestly don’t know how it survived.

And now. 

At least 2 years later.

I am in the process of scrubbing out a huuuuge 50 or 60 gallon tank (not sure, I need to find out), because those goldfish are STILL alive and over 6 inches long.

Should have figured.

His name is Spock. 

He can’t help but live long and prosper.