Sushi Train!

Today I went out shopping and lunching with my mom and sister as part of her post-birthday celebration. We did a little shopping at IKEA and then went over to this sushi place in the strip-mall hell next to the IKEA (seriously, the people in the parking lot of this place are all CRAZY! And in a frenzy to get the.best.parking.spot.)

I was sort of super excited about the sushi because it was the kind on the conveyor belt where you just sit down and start plucking plates of sushi off to eat, which I had never done before. And I was trying my best not to eat too many of the "black plates" because they were all $3.25 each. But there was this eel dish that was a "black plate" dish that my sister and I were both eyeing so we finally decided we'd grab the next one that came around.

:::seeing one coming down the pipe:::

"Ooh, ooh! There is one!" I said and Kristin eagerly swiped it off the conveyor belt. We pulled the lid off and she was immediately all, "Oh. Oohhh. That is bad."

:::leaning over for a closer look:::

"There is a big, curly black hair on the top of that," she says with a grimace.

:::looking around at the cooking and wait staff, all of whom are Asian and have straight, straight hair:::

::::eeewwww::::

"Let's just put it back..."

So we plunk the dish back on the conveyor belt, which was bad because each time I saw another eel plate coming around we would get all excited, scrutinize it further, and be all disappointed because that little black hair was still gleefully lounging on top of the sushi.

So, yes, today's story is a lot of art imitating life ;-) Happy Birthday though Kristin!

Word of the Day: Saturday, January 02, 2010
constitutional
1. A walk taken for one's health.


Marvin tried to disguise his belch behind his hand in an effort of discretion. He wasn't so sure it had been a effective as he had hoped. A pretty young mother, scooting her little girl past him had given him a side-long glance at his flagrant display of flatulence.

Bah, he thought. Fuck it. He was old, at least he looked older than his years, and he found that everyone seemed to cut him extra slack when it came to being elderly. He is old, he is probably losing his mind! Let him belch in public! Everyone knows old people don't have manners!

Marvin shuffled to the end of the sidewalk and turned around. He had excused himself from the table momentarily in between courses, "A man my age needs a mid-meal constitutional. It helps with the digestion problems," he had murmured to his daughter's soon-to-be husband who had nodded politely.

He chuckled to himself, and earned another pointed look from the couple on the bench ahead of him. I hadn't really needed a mid-meal constitutional. He had just noticed that there was a big, curly black hair daintily perched on top of the appetizer course, and he figured it would be an "old man" thing to do to make a fuss over it in public, but didn't want to have to wonder in horror if his ex-wife would unknowingly stick that particular piece of Brie in her mouth.