So this nice young couple who live in New York after getting married in the early 1920s pick Ratner’s as their favorite restaurant. It’s their place. They go all the time. For special occasions, just to get out, and any time at all.
And so it is for 10 years. Then, one early evening whilst they dined, the man’s fish arrived; the wife’s blintzes arrived. And just as the young man is about to cut into his fish, the fish comes to life and pleads: "Oh, please, don’t eat me, don’t eat me."
The man is freaked. His wife is shocked. They leave the restaurant. It’s such a horror to the man that they never go to a restaurant again. The wife goes along with it.
That is, until a day or two before their 50th anniversary. The wife tiptoes around the subject. It would be nice to go out for dinner for their 50th.
The husband anticipates the event, and to show his appreciation for his wife’s tolerance all these years, he broaches the subject first. "Tania," he says, "would you like to go out for dinner with me for our 50th anniversary?"
"Sure, Jack," she immediately answers. She knows her husband, and figured he’d come through for the big 5-0.
"Good," he says, but, would you mind terribly if we went to Wolfie’s instead of Ratner’s this time?"
"No, I wouldn’t have it any other way, Jack. Wolfie’s will be fine."
So they get decked out. The limo arrives. They go the few blocks to Wolfie’s. Seated, she orders the blintzes; he orders the fish."
Their meals arrive. Her blintzes look cooked to perfection. His fish, beautifully delivered, is under a silver cover. He lifts the cover. And lo and behold, there’s the fish. The fish pops up, looks at Jack and says, "What’s the matter, you don’t go to Ratner’s any more?"