The "A Different Kind of Fish Food" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Temperature was in the high 80s and the humidity made it feel like a sauna.  But hey, being on a Caribbean beach is great no matter what the weather may be.  Air was still with very little movement on the umbrella fringes.  Water was in the mid-80s and crystal clear with nary a wave lapping the beach.  Overall, a beautiful beach day.  It's what paradise is all about.  A native islander works his way up the beach in waist-high water with a rather large plastic bag over his shoulder filled with bread scraps.  Every so often he grabs a handful and tosses it to the parade of fish he has accumulated behind him on his journey from the prude (clothed) section to the nude section of Orient Beach.  Most get out of his way for fear of the sharp teeth and churning waters around him, but some stand at water's edge watching intently.  I often tell Carol that someday I'm going to bring a bag of bread scraps to the beach and feed the fish as this gentleman does just about every day. Well, today was just the day.  I wasn't the only one feeding the fish today.  A woman braved the churning water during the morning and drew a crowd of onlookers as she tossed her bread scraps as far away from her as she could.  After lunch it was my turn to give it a try.  Carol and I had entered the water to try and cool off from the oppressive heat when I told her I was going to go back and get the bread scraps.  She asked if I really wanted to try that being that we were on the nude section of the beach and had noting to protect myself from the fish.  Told her I'd throw the bread crumbs far enough away from me so I wouldn't have to worry.  Well, I found out the hard way that sometimes the fish have a different idea about feeding protocol.  I started by tossing the bait 10-15 feet from me as I stood in waist deep water.  Others gathered nearby to watch the fish feeding and thrashing in the water.  Fish of all colors and sizes joined in the afternoon feast.  Then I noticed a few getting a little too close to me. Realized I should stop what I was doing.  But then it struck!  Something below the waterline took a strike.  I felt it and let out a yelp!  "That hurt," I told Carol.  Threw the rest of the bread as far as I could and grabbed to protect myself from the others swimming around me.  When all the fish had disappeared I removed my hand to take a look.  Uh Oh!  I knew it may be time to get out of the water before the sharks circled.  Hoping it will heal without a visit to the doctor.  How could I possibly explain the damage?  "Yeah doc, a fish nibbled on it when I was feeding bread to the masses in the ocean."  But, I'm sure he has probably heard that many times before!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.