Hatch The Mentalist

This past Wednesday night I was sitting on the pier in Mexico Beach, drinking a Steel 221 and helping the local fish by allowing them to gently eat shrimp off my hook at no danger to themselves.

Two young kids start talking to me while I'm sitting there fishing. They're about 8 or 9 years old and one is a real talker. Here's a sample of our conversation.

Kid: What bait are you using?
Hatch: Shrimp.
Kid: Did you try casting it further out?
Hatch: Yep.
Kid: Maybe you should just drop it straight down.
Hatch: I could try that. I don't want the fish to have to move around too much for the free shrimp, though.
Kid: Are they hitting it now?
Hatch: Nope.
Kid: What about now?
Hatch: Nope.
Kid: Wha..
Hatch: Nope.

The other kid, who was his cousin, was a little older and seemed to be horrified that his relative was talking so much and acting like a little kid. At some point they mentioned they were from South Carolina and the talkative one filled me in on all the important fishing going on there at their farm. Eventually they left and I returned to sipping my 221 and watching the end of the rod jump around as the fish below the pier enjoyed their shrimp buffet. It was an excellent evening.

The next night, I was walking down the pier to see how the fishing was going for my uncle Johnny, and about half way down I see the same two kids again, this time with a man who is obviously the talkative one's father. I gave a nod to the father and said "look at these South Carolina boys out on the pier tonight."

The man gave me an extremely startled look and quickly glanced down at his shirt and at the two boys before looking at me with wide eyes and saying "Are you a mentalist or something?"